


Illusionary Submersion in Saltwater

by unavoidablekoishi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Multi, but he's getting shit done, i did my fucking homework on this one, i might put an oc love interest bc kaguras gotta have a grandma right?, isobu and yagura are good friends!, me diligently fixing kishimotos gaping plot holes, me writing naruto fanfics in 2020, my dialogue is very british by nature so forgive me right, set just before the start of naruto, since i couldnt find out how the fuck that all worked, yagura and zabuza workin together fam, yagura has no memory of what happened during the genjutsu, yagura is a mouthy little shit, yagura survives AU, yeehaw, zabuza is also younger than established canon age bc kishimotos timeline is a fucking mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-04-21
Packaged: 2021-04-23 00:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22227415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidablekoishi/pseuds/unavoidablekoishi
Summary: The masked man disappears as if he was never there. Perhaps he was just the wind running through his hair and past his ears, telling him of the traitors…The Mizukage jumps from the ledge of the building with no anticipation. The vacancy of his expression suggest no thought, but the trembling inside him suggests that something is waking up.~~~In which Yagura is unexpectedly woken from the genjutsu he'd been incapacitated by following Zabuza's assassination attempt on him. With the threat of whoever is behind the illusion potentially coming after him, Yagura finds himself trying to piece together just what the hell's been going on in the world over the past few years but what's the use of being the Mizukage if you can't even go back to your own village?
Comments: 31
Kudos: 104





	1. Eyes are the windows to the soul....so smash 'em!

_ “They’re heading north already! Don’t let them escape!” _

_ “The Tracker nin are already after them-- send out another squad!” _

A thick, intrusive beam of moonlight is cast across the wrecked Mizukage office from the spacious confines of the sky. The dark is no problem, not for anyone who calls themselves a shinobi, but the thick, inky darkness is prone to offering an unsavoury experience more often than not.

The state of the office is hardly of concern at the moment. The spacious area is rife with tension and heated shinobi- two things that rarely go well when hand-in-hand with one another. They’re doing their best not to break out into a full argument-- and over what? Without traitorous intentions of their own, it’s unclear. Why fight one another?

Two Mist nin are stanced by the door. The only door in the office, yes, but not the only entrance or, in this case, exit. That much is made clear by the shattered window behind the desk. The quaint moonbeam manages to excuse itself through the thick cracks and the gaping hole left in the glass that threatens to fall apart under any pressure. It casts a wonderfully ominous jagged shape across the floor of the office- a spot no shinobi dare occupy at the moment.

A pair of eyes are trained on it but there’s no response. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the shinobi that are mostly permitted to be there at that moment are in a tizzy. Those who haven’t pursued the rogues who’d less-than-politely opted to exit via defenestration rather than the good old fashioned door are stood around. Stood around might actually be too tame a description here. Nobody who stands on their toes with their hands where nobody can see them can accurately be described as ‘stood around’. The connotation of laziness just isn’t there. 

For a moment, however, the Mizukage actually does seem to be sitting around. It’s entirely blank and nobody can decide whether it’s a good or bad thing. 

“How many teams have we sent out? What about the Mizukage?”

The latter question is either entirely rhetorical or just doesn’t deserve an answer. The nin isn’t sure whether to actually approach the Mizukage, but the man behind him, bathed in more shadow than moonlight, offers at least something.

“We sent three. For now, anyway.” Ao’s arms are crossed as he surveys the state of the room. The two shinobi planted firmly by the door are dutifully standing their ground, which seems a bit mistimed at the moment, but he can’t blame them for trying. The room is becoming depleted in numbers as those who are finding less of a reason to be in the office and more of a reason to be pursuing the rogues are dispersing.

Ao’s eyes are now trained on the Mizukage. He says nothing and his expression says even less. The one visible eye appears almost glassy and unfocused. 

“Are you not going after them? Ao? They could use your eye.”

Ao disrupts his gaze to make it seem like the window is truly the most interesting object in the room. “They don’t need it to track down those idiots. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow, they’ll get them.”

He has...some amount of faith in the borderline infamous Tracker nin of the Mist. However, he has a lot less faith in the assailants getting themselves out of this well-dug hole alive. Storming the Mizukage’s office? Doing it in the dead of night didn’t offer them much advantage.

“You seem unworried.”

“I’m not unworried.” Ao speaks sharply but saying ‘I’m not unworried’ isn’t the same as saying ‘I’m worried’. There’s a distinct difference. The other nin watches Ao with an unreadable expression. “And what about the Kubikiribōchō? We can’t lose another sword.”

There’s a pause. In that pause, it almost seems like everyone had forgotten the Mizukage was actually in the room with them. The Mizukage stands up suddenly, planting his hands on the desk, uncaring to the fragments of glass trembling beneath his fingertips. If he’s livid, his face doesn’t show it and if his face doesn’t show it, then he’s most _ certainly _ livid.

“Mizukage, sir!”

There’s no question to be heard here but everyone’s asking it anyway- is he going to go after them himself?

The Mizukage rounds the desk swiftly, making it seem like there was no movement whatsoever as he grabs his club and deftly swings it into a comfortable position to carry. Before he leaves, he eyes the room over his shoulder and Ao can’t help but feel like even though he’s being stared at, there’s nothing looking at him in particular. Not in those eyes.

“I want them found. Now.”

It’s a simple order that somehow leaves them nothing to go on as he leaves the room. Ao knows he’ll have to do his bit when the time comes but for the time being? He inches closer to the desk, the focal point of the attack, which is splintered entirely on one side. Glass is strewn across the desk and the floor, as if the wind had just inoffensively blown sharp fragments in through an open window like snowflakes. He’s not cleaning this one up.

The room is near-empty now save for Ao and the other Mist nin. Ao picks up a shard of glass from the desk with his fingers and inspects it. It bides time, to be honest. It bides time whilst he thinks but no amount of thinking can equate to actually doing.

“That was Zabuza…”

It’s not a question anymore. The frightening sheen of the Kubikiribōchō is unmistakable, even in the darkness of the office. Ao can’t say he’s surprised but he can’t say much else either.

“Do you think the Tracker nin will find them tonight?”

‘Them’. Of course, whilst Zabuza seemed to take the spotlight, Ao will always be familiar with the feeling of something lurking behind him. The Demon Brothers were good at that. Even when he couldn’t see them, he just knew. It was like when a frightening experience became too familiar and, though it’s impossible to pin what exactly is giving you that funny gut feeling or the feeling of your neck hairs standing on end, Ao would always recognise a good lurk when he felt one.

“With the Mizukage at the helm, I find it hard to believe they’ll get far.” The ambiguity of his words offer no defense to either side in this conflict. His actions seem to do the same.

* * *

The assassination attempt of the Fourth Mizukage that night didn’t go unnoticed. Not by any stretch of the margin, but it was also spectated by some unexpected characters. 

The Mizukage stands on the top of the Mizukage building with as vacant an expression as he’d donned sat in the office, surrounded by the aftermath of the attempt on his life. He surveys the landscape, only vaguely listening to the bustle going on beneath him. He’s by himself. 

Well...that’s only meant technically. The Mizukage hasn’t been by himself for a long time and in more ways than one. Naturally, one would think being alone at night is a bad idea after a group of rogue nin decide to announce their traitorous intentions towards you sword-to-neck with as much grace as anyone can expect wielding a sword that weighs more than your own body mass.

On that last point, the Mizukage can easily handle a club bigger than his entire body, so they have no excuses on that front. A job worth doing is a job worth doing well and the only explanations for either of those sentiments is a broken window, so he’s not convinced, in all honesty. 

Zabuza is persistent, though. He’ll be back and ready to right the wrongs he’d made no less than four hours ago. However, if the same ragtag bunch of rogues come knocking on his door waving their swords in that dick-swinging display with nothing to say between themselves than another broken window then he’ll be sorely disappointed. He doesn’t condone traitors by any standards but the least they could do is make proper shinobi of themselves.

The sky is lighter than earlier, but the sun has yet to peek out from above the treetops, basking the sky in a luscious orange colour. There’s a slight breeze that bristles his hair and whistles past his ears. It’s as if he can hear their traitorous intentions on the wind, whispering in his ear.

He can’t hear anything, really, though. It’s dull. The wind offers no bitter chill as he’s accustomed to. There’s numbness over his face, but not from the cold. He hasn’t felt cold in a long while.

He doesn’t know this, however. He doesn’t know that the thoughts inside his head aren’t his own. He doesn’t know that the murderous intent towards him very slowly and very silently wrapping itself around the village is a fault of his. Really, he has no idea.

He might as well have just been ignoring the cloaked man stood some ways behind him. He’s practically inconspicuous in a place like this. Nobody thinks twice passing a man in a mask and a cloak of black fabric and mystery but it’s only when they feel like they’ve missed the certain something that separates him from the rest is he already gone.

There’s a distinct tremble that tries to hide itself deep, deep within the very core of the Mizukage. It’s curled into a ball and trying to seem invisible but sometimes it’s hard to tell if nobody can see you until somebody does.

The Mizukage doesn’t feel the tremble. Instead, his eyes are still trained on the treetops, now at the spot where Zabuza is said to have fled. The Mizukage doesn’t abide betrayal. The Mizukage doesn’t abide defection. The Mizukage has something of a reputation to upkeep and will go about keeping it up until…

Who can say?

The masked man disappears as if he was never there. Perhaps he was just the wind running through his hair and past his ears, telling him of the traitors…

The Mizukage jumps from the ledge of the building with no anticipation. The vacancy of his expression suggest no thought, but the trembling inside him suggests that something is waking up.


	2. Receiving a wake-up slap from a Biju is probably fatal...

The sun has risen on the morning following the first assassination attempt on the Fourth Mizukage. Spoken like there will be more to come but, really, who’s to say there won’t be? Is an assassination an assassination if nobody is around to see it?

But murder is still murder and attempted murder is as good as, so those who play the game, pay the price one way or another. An eye for an eye, as they say, and that game is the only way to play in the Village of the Bloody Mist.

The Mizukage is a little way away from the village, stood on an outcrop that lines a small, shimmering lake. The moss is slimy and slippery under his sandals and his club rests comfortably on his back. He’s accompanied this time, by a small team of Mist jonin that are expertly covering ground. He’s not far enough to be anywhere near where Zabuza could’ve fled to but when the Tracker nin come back empty-handed, that’ll be his time to strike.

It’s not as if he expects his subordinates to do his dirty work for him. If anything, he enjoys dealing with these little indiscretions carried out by former Mist rogues but…

…

Well, there was no but about it. He should be out there hunting down those positively laughable shinobi who had the balls to even  _ dare--... _ but no. He  _ would  _ be out there, doing just that, but...no.

If he could think, he’d be thinking just that. For a man with less tolerance for betrayal than he does for physically eating glass, it’d strike one as unusual that he’d act so placid about doing anything about it firsthand.

He steps down to the edge of the water, caught in its delightful sparkle as he catches his own reflection. From his eyes, there’s no familiarity that can be seen but the water seems to ripple slightly and it’s hard to tell if it’s the water or if it’s just him. His eyes blur slightly, smudging the reflection he could of himself in the water. 

Then, as if yanked out of a body of water that he’d had no idea he’d been submerged in, the Mizukage emits a harsh gasp, forcing every unit of oxygen from out of his lungs in one painful breath. His head doesn’t throb, per se, but recreates the sensation of what it would be like to press your temples with a vice. He squeezes his eyes shut to take the edge off of the sensation and for a moment, he has to use a minuscule amount of chakra to keep him from slipping on the moss.

The faint trembling within him has escalated to rippling that mirrors the water he spies himself in and there’s the gradual sensation of waking up from a long and unforgiving dream. Even on the surface of the murkiest of water, his magenta eyes are bright and distinguishable.

He doesn’t move. Not for a long time. His body doesn’t feel like his own and he momentarily squeezes his fists together as if to test his own existence. The flesh of his fingers tingle with discomfort and he can’t will his hands to exert their full strength, only leaving small nail marks on his palms. His team of shinobi are close, but not close enough. 

Even if they were right behind him, breathing down his neck, they wouldn’t be able to hear the voice that reaches out to him in this unfamiliar territory.

_ “Yagura…?” _

Shinobi, most shinobi, like a good poker face, which is why the Mizukage's expression doesn't move an inch, even when the voice is clear to him. Yagura managed to master it long ago but...every now and then there’s a little indiscretion that causes a seismic reaction in him. He could say these little outbursts of pure, genuine emotion is part of his charm. 

There’s no charm that comes with leading a bloody, terror-filled reign of the Land of Water, however. You’d need enough charm and tact to make your lies seem more credible than the truth to look any amount of decent in such a high position. Yagura is aware of this much but not so aware of the charm, or lack thereof, of his own reputation. 

It takes him a moment. He’s out of sorts, but not out of mind, ironically enough.

“Isobu…”

The word seems so foreign to him that he allows it to roll over his tongue like a fine luxury. He can’t put his finger on it, but it felt...melancholic. As if there was an unexpected sentiment to it. He hears an audible sigh in his head that very well could be from himself.

_ “You’re out of it. That’s...good.” _

He wouldn’t admit it, not really, but Yagura’s been caught in enough genjutsu to know when he’s been knocked out of it. Under normal circumstances, he fares well enough to be able to dodge being incapacitated by an illusion but this didn’t feel like normal circumstances. If normal circumstances were a thick line in the sand, he gets the funny feeling he’d crossed it about 200 miles back.

“What’s going on?”

There’s not exactly much time to waste. He cuts to the chase quick enough as he casually hops down from the outcrop to spy the Mist nin returning to formation from what Yagura hopes was just a jaunt in the woods. No point overreacting over a little illusion. 

_ “That’s...it’s a loaded question. I think we have to leave.” _

“Leave?” Yagura accidentally lets the word spill from his mouth and into the faces of what he can only hope are a trustworthy group of shinobi from his village. Though hidden by masks, the tilt of the head suggests confusion in one nin. He manages to hide the expression of a cock-up on his face before the others catch on.

“Mizukage, sir. Did you say ‘leave’?” One inquires politely. There’s three others with him at the moment, making four people here in total. The less, the better, he thinks, as it’s hard enough to have two conversations at once.

_ “We need to leave. I’ll explain everything on the way.” _

There’s a sudden disconnect somewhere here, where he’s torn between the trust for his village and the trust for his Biju- if you could call the Biju,  _ his _ . He’s aware enough of his situation to know his Biju has knocked him out of a genjutsu, which raises more questions than answers, and if his Biju has had to knock him out of a genjutsu, then he’s not sure who he can trust at the moment. 

“Yes. I need you to finish up here and then return to Kirigakure. I have things to attend to.” He’s got a quick mind but a quicker mouth and the sly recovery he weaves with his tongue is easily believable. The three jonin don’t waste time exchanging glances, though the split-second pause suggests they might’ve done if they weren’t under the gaze of their Mizukage. They merely nod and jump off toward the trees in the direction of Kirigakure, leaving Yagura by himself in the small clearing.

The moment he’s sure they’re out of earshot and chakra-shot, he turns back to the lake, looking at nothing in particular to occupy his actions. This moment to breathe is short-lived as Isobu urges suddenly,  _ “Let’s leave. We need to go now…” _

“Go where? There’d better be some good explanations for this.” Yagura grunts, but decides to make a small start in the direction straight ahead of him.

_ “As far away as we can as quick as we can. Doesn’t matter where!” _

There’s a mild urgency behind Isobu’s voice that he recognises as distinctly uncharacteristic. He decides to speed up, even if he had no destination in mind. 

“Okay, but will you explain why? Why do we need to leave? I mean...the village isn’t far away.”

_ “Yes, that’s the point. Listen, you were put under a genjutsu.” _

“I figured as much.” Yagura says, thickly. He decides not to dwell on whatever he did to let himself be incapacitated like that, “What kind? You woke me up, didn’t you? Snapped me out of it.”

_ “I did, but it seems like time has passed since you were first put under the genjutsu. Quite a while...actually.” _

Yagura almost screeches to a halt, causing the sole of his sandal to scrape dangerously against a tree branch as he moves. “Time passed? I’m...not gonna lie, I’m not getting the picture here.” He pauses intermittently, occupied with altering his route slightly.

_ “It’s been nine years since the Graduation Exam was withdrawn. You know the one…” _

This time, Yagura  _ does  _ stop short, expressing his surprise to nobody in particular. “Nine  _ years?!  _ Isobu, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what the hell have you been doing all this time?!” The way he looks around, conversing with something that doesn’t have a physical form in this world is comical at best and absolutely psychotic at worst.

_ “That’s the thing…! I wasn’t able to snap you out of it until sometime last night. I must’ve been put under the same genjutsu.” _

Yagura opens his mouth to hastily retort, but instead says, “Wait...what, so Biju can succumb to the effects of genjutsu? Really?” He scratches his chin for a moment to contemplate the idea but a small force of pressure coming somewhere inside him makes him jolt forwards.

_ “Don’t stop! If you stop now, the masked man who put us under the genjutsu will catch up! I wonder if he knows we’ve broken out of the illusion yet…” _

Yagura doesn’t move. Not yet. He frowns.

“Is this why we’re leaving? We’re running away? We’re not abandoning Kirigakure, if that’s your plan.”

_ “I get the feeling you underestimate the severity of our situation, Yagura…”  _

“I’m the Mizukage! I’m literally the last person who should be leaving Kirigakure!” He argues defiantly to thin air. His hands are planted firmly on his hips as he paces the length of the tree branch. 

_ “In some circumstances, that might not be the case…”  _ Isobu tacks on, unhelpfully,  _ “The fact of the matter is, that man was able to put a genjutsu under both of us-- and strong enough to keep us under for years! Does this not bother you?” _

“Oh, it does bother me. It bothers me greatly. It might even be the reason why I think we’re going in the  _ opposite direction _ .” He grinds his teeth, crossing his arms in a most petulant manner. Isobu racks his body with a sigh.

_ “We’re not abandoning. We’re...sorting out business. Just like you said!” _

He doesn’t give Yagura enough time to bollock him for using his own words against him.  _ “You don’t know this, but you were the target of a coup d’etat last night. Does that bother you?” _

Yagura is short on words for a moment. He looks around, assessing the situation in his head. He runs a hand down his face, inadvertently trailing the long scar that stretched over his cheek from his lower eyelid. 

“Okay-- hold on. Now I definitely have questions.”

_ “I’m afraid I might not be able to answer all of them, but...go ahead.” _

Yagura swallows, extending a hand and begins counting each question on his fingers and as concise as he can manage, “One, why was I the target of a coup? Two,  _ who  _ staged the coup? Three, how do you know that there was a coup to begin with? Go.”

Isobu seems to be struggling to overcome the hurdle of questions that Yagura spews in his direction but begins to make a good go of it anyway. He knows they won’t make any headway until Yagura knows what’s going on. He never liked to be kept in the dark.

But...he thinks Yagura might have to suck it up this time around, since they’ve both been kept in the dark for nigh on several years now and Isobu knows about as much as Yagura does. 

_ “Um, okay, well...One, I’m...not really sure. Two, I believe it was staged by Zabuza-- he was wielding the  _ _ Kubikiribōchō and fled after the attack. Three...well...can we start moving before I start telling you? It’s a bit long…” _

On most accounts, Yagura can respect how generally inoffensive and respectful his Biju can be. He can tell Isobu is distinctly nervous about something and, though he’s not the most outspoken, it doesn’t mean he won’t bitch about it if he started heading in the direction of Kirigakure. Yagura’s beginning to get impatient now and the information that he’d been targeted by Zabuza is leaving a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't a foreign name to anyone who lived in Kirigakure. Zabuza had created a notoriety for himself at the not-so-tender age of nine years old as a borderline mass murderer. 

He reluctantly begins to move, albeit a lot slower than before. “You’ve been out of the genjutsu longer than I have. You knew about the coup? How?” He reiterates, this time hoping to get a proper answer out of his Biju.

_ “It was the moment I awoke from the genjutsu. Not the...not the actual coup, but it was right after. You were sat at the desk in the Mizukage’s office and I knew you weren't yourself. All it took was listening to what was being said around you. The office was a mess…” _

“I’m not injured…” Yagura mutters to himself, thoughtfully.

_ “They weren’t successful.” _

Yagura very nearly stops just to spite Isobu in that moment. He holds his tongue but vows it’ll be the last time he does today.

_ “Let’s just say our business today is catching Zabuza. Who’s going to think you’ll sit back after somebody tried to come for your life?” _

Yagura doesn’t bother agreeing with him. He’s in enough of a bad mood at the moment as it is. Imagine waking from the longest sleep of your life just to find you might never have woken up if some resident jackass and his obnoxiously long sword hadn’t assumedly burst into your office in the dead of night to give you a one-to-one demonstration on how he cuts his vegetables.

He can’t help himself. He really can’t. 

“ _ Fucking _ ...Zabuza-- you know he’s the reason we cancelled the exam procedure in the first place!” He complains, now speeding his pace. Not because he has somewhere to be but because he now has a lot of pent-up energy to exert in some way or another. Isobu can only be sympathetic.

_ “I suppose...the days of the Bloody Mist aren’t over yet.” _

Yagura inhales sharply, resisting the urge to stop once more just to rant and rage to himself. The wood of a branch splinters beneath the sole of his shoe under the pressure of just a little too much chakra. There’s a pause here that Isobu doesn’t much like.

_ “So what do we do?” _

“Who’s this ‘man’?”

_ “Eh?” _

“You spoke of a man. The man who put us under the genjutsu-- who is he? Where does he come from?”

_ “I only saw him briefly-- I don’t know. He could be from anywhere. We hadn’t the strongest ties with other nations last I was aware.” _

“No headband?”

_ “He wore a mask. Not one that any Mist nin wears. It would be my guess that he’s been utilising his genjutsu to control you. Your actions as Mizukage these past few years are his own.” _

Yagura emits a loud shout of utter distaste at the idea of having his strings pulled by somebody else, especially in the position of Mizukage. He had a duty to his village-- every Kage in the land had a duty to their village and their people. That’s how he saw it, anyway. This does suggest an idea, however.

“What about the other four Kage? Do you think they could be under the same effect?”

_ “I find it hard to believe that one man alone could control all five Kage at once. You aren’t hailed as the strongest shinobi in your lands for nothing.” _

“You say that, and yet…” Yagura grumps, throwing his hands up as he stops to avert his path a little to the west. “Both you and I-- that’s a Kage  _ and  _ a Biju. Whoever this guy is, his abilities aren’t to be trifled with.”

_ “As we’ve both come to learn.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kishimoto did yagura unbelievably dirty and i will not stand for it


	3. Blowing off steam in Yugakure...

By the time Yagura stops, dusk is settling nicely over the land like a hazy blanket. It’s almost making Yagura feel drowsy watching the sun set the way it does. It’s peaceful.

_ “I know I said this, but...I really think we might be in danger, here.” _

“Yeah, go figure.” Yagura frowns, resting his back against the thick tree trunk behind him. He decides he’ll take a break now and then continue throughout the night. He’s got the stamina for it, he feels. Wouldn’t mind a bite of food, though- if you put a kunai to his neck and made him say it. 

Yagura’s eyes lid slightly as he solemnly watches the sky lose the last embers of sunlight.

“We can’t leave Kirigakure.”

_ “I was afraid you’d say that.” _

“But we can’t risk letting whoever was controlling us to catch onto the fact that we’re free of his genjutsu. If he puts so much effort to keep us under his control, he won't let us go that easily.”

_ “Well, it won’t be long before he notices. I mean, a genjutsu of that magnitude? The chakra output it must've taken-- it’d be a hard thing not to notice.” _

Yagura’s head lolls against the rough bark of the tree, “Damn it. This is a pain in the ass.”

_ “Putting it lightly. So...what’s your plan?” _

He sits up suddenly, bringing his knees up to his chest as he stares at the empty space in front of him. “What plan? I mean-- you know more about this guy than I do. First and foremostly, we need information.”

_ “But if we go back to Kirigakure, we’re at risk of falling into the same trick we did before. You don’t know this man’s capabilities. If we had something to go on, maybe…” _

Isobu sounds a bit wistful here. There’s not much a sixty-foot sea monster with the power to level several large landscapes can do sealed inside the body of a shinobi who looks more like a prepubescent teenager than the leader of a great nation. 

For a moment, Yagura feels like he’s been slandered in some way, yet he’s unsure how. He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair to keep it back out of his face.

“I have...the power of an entire village on my side.” Yagura says slowly.

_ “...I’m not so sure that you do…” _

Yagura sighs. Not a sigh of weariness but a sigh of total resignation. He can’t even begin to fathom what the hell’s been going on since he’d been under the effects of a genjutsu so strong it’d entrapped a Biju. He’d actually been ready to step up to the plate to become Mizukage and he’d been so sure it would all work, and yet…

Sabotage.

“Jeez, and don’t get me started on  _ why  _ this guy took control of us. Where the hell am I gonna find something like that out unless I go and knock on his door to ask?!” Yagura throws himself back against the tree dramatically. Calling it dramatic might be a tad unfair, as it was a perfectly reasonable reaction to his predicament. That could've summed Yagura up perfectly. Reasonably dramatic.

Isobu doesn’t get Yagura started, as Yagura would say, because Isobu gets the feeling Yagura was just continuing a conversation he’d had in his own head out loud. He feels it might be rude to intrude on what looked to be a private matter in the mind of his young Jinchuuriki. 

_ “There’s a lot to do here.” _

“Okay, so...you’re right-- we can’t waltz right back into Kirigakure right now. That’s exactly where this guy will be expecting us to be.”

_ “Yes.” _

“But, we also  _ can’t  _ abandon Kirigakure because, well, I’m the Mizukage.”

_ “As previously mentioned.”  _ Many, many times, he neglects to add.

“So we can’t be here and we can’t be there. Where do we go? There’s only so long we can feign going after Zabuza before it looks suspicious. The Trackers might’ve already gotten him.”

_ “That would be unfortunate.” _

“We need information. Get up to speed-- but we can’t be found. Not by anyone. Who knows what side this guy is on.” Yagura is normally a lot more cool-headed in these scenarios but there’s a lot to process, a lot to take it and, seemingly, a lot of danger to fend off in these last hours he’s actually been aware of himself. He puts his face in his hands and groans lowly. There’s no game plan here.

Isobu sounds thoughtful for a moment, but it comes off as entirely unhelpful,  _ “So, we don’t know what’s going on. We don’t know who’s been manipulating us and we don’t know why he manipulated us.” _

“Can you not rub it in for, like, two minutes?!”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Over the few hours spent travelling away from the Land of Water and closer towards the countries between the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning, Yagura and Isobu manage to formulate a game plan between themselves. It’s...not much, but it’s a start and everyone has to start somewhere.

Yagura wanted to kickstart the plan off with the idea that not dying is the best course of action but Isobu didn’t seem to appreciate the cynicism. Instead, they decided that doing a little sleuthing in Yugakure is a good, albeit basic start. The need for more information would probably take them towards Konohagakure.

_ “You might have to be careful going anywhere as you are now, Yagura. People must know who you are by sight alone.” _

“You have a point. I’d cement a pretty weird reputation if I went around asking people about myself.” Yagura scratches his cheek as Yugakure begins to ebb into view from over the horizon, blanketed in a thick mass of steam. A transformation jutsu is literally as easy as it comes for a Mizukage. Quicker than the blink of an eye, Yagura adopts an entirely different appearance- one constructed from nothing but imagination and chakra. It shows no allegiance to any village and no affiliation with any nation. 

Yagura still manages to adopt a casual manner to these things. The way he walks is so normal, so calm, that nobody would look twice at someone like him. Except maybe bandits, but they wouldn’t be able to look at anything  _ once _ after he’d finished with them. He didn’t like having his own business disrupted. It was rude.

It’s safe to say he’s calmed down since last night, too. There was an awful lot to take in for both of them and Yagura isn’t partial to the idea of returning to someone else’s control. He could control himself just fine, thank you very much, but the idea of someone else taking the reins of his own body in the position of Mizukage worries him greatly. There's too much damage that can be done. 

They swiftly pass through the gates of Yugakure and the steam hits Yagura in the face far harsher than he was expecting. He pulls a face of discomfort. “How can people breathe in this crap? No wonder they can’t fight here.” He might be speaking on a bias. 

_ “Is it much different from mist?” _

“You’re a coldwater creature! How would you fancy living in the tropics, huh?”

_ “Mm. Too warm…” _

“Well, there you go, you just answered your own question.” Yagura snarks, holding his hands behind his head as he surveys the surroundings. Somewhere that sells newspapers might be a good start to get a feel for the world they were in. The first row of small shops sit proudly in front of a large onsen with steam pouring out in thick clouds, rising high above them. At least one of these shops had to sell something of substance. 

Yagura pokes his head into the first one. It’s a small pokey little place that just sells bits of everything fit for tourist travel. Yagura can’t say he’s the tourist type but decides he can manage to feign it for a little bit to get the rest of the world off his back. 

The shop is small, but comfy. The harsh sunlight outside beats through the thick wall of steam that surrounds Yugakure just to stream comfortably across the floor of the shop through the open door. There's a counter across the room piled high with purchasable items. A radio is playing softly in the corner of the room, emitting a warm, crackly hum. He sifts through one of the magazine racks near one of the walls and finds himself a newspaper that looks more trustworthy than the others. 

He picks up the paper, feeling it crease softly in his hands but his expression is nothing short of vacant for a moment and before Isobu can ask what’s going through his mind, Yagura nearly doubles over with the most crippled look on his face. His mouth is twisted into pure distaste.

“I can’t believe this…” he says weakly, “I’m the Fourth Mizukage...one of the strongest shinobi in Kirigakure...and I’m in bloody  _ Yugakure  _ trying to figure out what the hell happened to  _ my village  _ in a fucking  _ disguise! _ ”

To say his ego was a little bit damaged was nothing short of a  _ massive fucking understatement.  _ Isobu can only really offer a little bit of sympathy. They’ve got things to do, places to be and genjutsu-casting, mind-controlling mystery men to fend off with little to nothing to go on. Yagura feels about as useful as a newspaper in a village full of steam.

“A...Are you alright over there? Son?”

Yagura bolts upright with wide eyes, his mouth stretched into a long, thin line as he turns to the man behind the counter who’d obviously been watching him for some time. He plays it off sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and putting the newspaper back on the rack.

“Uh...yeah--yeah, I’m alright! Guess this place made me a bit dizzy. I was just tryin’ to find a paper is all.” He plays the awkwardness off so well Isobu suspects it really could be genuine. It was only a little mental collapse. Nothing a bit of food and answers couldn’t solve.

“Papers are all there. Take a seat if you’re feelin’ dizzy. Happens to the best of us.” The shopkeeper gestures loosely to the racks around the shop and to the row of chairs by the door, offering a small piece of comfort. It prompts Yagura to absentmindedly wonder that maybe heat dizziness was a common ailment of tourists in Yugakure. It would make sense, after all, those unadjusted to the heat and moisture. 

Yagura snags the paper he'd had his eyes on beforehand and takes the guy up on his offer of a seat in the sunlight. He might've been Mizukage but, to his dismay, the sensation of lightened pockets struck him with a bad feeling, the kind of bad feeling that would foreshadow bad luck- the bad luck being that he had no money. 

He skims the paper best he can, eyes running over everything from mindless tabloid bullshit to adverts for menial jobs. Sure, he'd basically lost his awareness for the better part of a few years but he felt as if things should be a little different now since it was technically the future. Naturally, however, they weren't. 

_ "There's nothing on Kirigakure here."  _ Isobu remarks with a smidge of disappointment to him. Yagura can only agree as he shuts the paper, placing it lopsidedly back on the rack. They could keep reading, but… well, he's never been the patient type. When he wants something done, he does it. 

Does it work out for him? He'll never tell. 

"Scuse me…" Yagura taps the counter to get the shopkeepers attention, "You mind if I ask you something?" 

The shopkeeper looks like a pleasant kind of guy who's entire world revolves around the comfort of this one shop. Yagura can sort of relate, there. If you could compare the entire expanse of Kirigakure to the confines of a small paper shop- and a newspaper is even more useless in a village full of water than a village full of steam. 

"Fire away, kid. What can I help you with?" 

"You see…" Yagura rolls his eyes in that special way he does when concocting a particularly good lie, "My family-- uh, distant family… on my mother's side, come from Kirigakure. I was just wondering if it's a good place to visit. What's it like over there?" 

Yagura is an especially talented liar, something he'd probably brag about, but having to ask about the state of his own village fills him with an absurd amount of inadequacy. Lucky for him, the shopkeeper believes him unquestioningly. 

"Kirigakure, huh? It's rough over there, from what I hear. They call it the Village of the Bloody Mist, y'know. Probably not somewhere you wanna go on holiday." 

Yagura winces. Village of the Bloody Mist, huh? So they were back to that. "What makes it so bloody?" 

The shopkeeper pauses, scrambling for a good answer. "If I recall, they had a particularly brutal graduation exam for the graduating shinobi. Past that, I'm a little unfamiliar. Yugakure thrives on pacifism, y'know!" 

Yagura offers a very small and very shallow laugh. "It's, uh… It's one of the great nations, right? They have a Kage." 

"You don't know very much about these parts, do you?" 

"What can I say, I'm a bit of a foreigner to this continent." Yagura can only reply, sheepishly. 

"Yeah, they got their Mizukage. He's got quite the reputation behind him, or so I hear." 

Yagura unintentionally grips the edge of the counter quite hard, now intrigued to hear. "A reputation, you say? What kind?" 

"Ooh, bad, I'd say. He's the reason they call that place the Bloody Mist. Apparently he's as ruthless as they come."

Yagura can't quite believe what he's hearing. Having a reputation is one thing and being ruthless is another but this knocks it out of the park. He can practically feel Isobu's reaction against the underside of his skin. 

Well. Okay, perhaps he'd personally earnt a few uses of the word 'ruthless' but Kirigakure had the 'Bloody Mist' title tacked onto it long before he'd stepped up as Mizukage. Unfortunately, this just meant somehow, during his reign, he'd managed to  _ cement  _ that nickname even  _ further _ . 

It's growing hard not to lament out loud about the situation. What the hell had this guy been doing under his name? What if he'd bought the graduation ritual back- was that why their bloodied title still remained? 

_ "Would this man even care about changing such things? It seems like such a minor thing to accomplish when you have an entire Kage under your control."  _ Isobu offers, in response to Yagura's raging thoughts. 

'Well, then, you tell  _ me  _ why! You know how many deranged, bloodthirsty lunatics opposed the withdrawal of the graduation exam?! Lots. Lots and lots and that's putting it lightly!' The fact that Yagura's rage is evident in his own thoughts always intrigues Isobu. 

_ "Well, then. If they can put you under genjutsu, they might as well be the Mizukage. All I'm saying is that this man's motive might not even be inspired by the political state of Kirigakure." _

In fairness, Isobu had lost Yagura the moment he'd made the first comment about the Mizukage and he knows that. Midway through his speech, Yagura had begun to talk loudly to the shopkeeper to drown him out. 

Biju aren't exactly the easiest creatures to get along with- especially not when paired with humans. Isobu isn't sure he could ever forget Shukaku's absolutely foul attitude and he knows first and foremostly that, more often than not, Biju and Jinchuuriki don't always get along. 

That's why it strikes him as a little bit odd when he watches Yagura interact with the outside world. Yagura is undoubtedly powerful, there's no way this fact is up for debate, but he has the kind of personality that butts heads with a lot of people. Usually this kind of hardheadedness and occasional petulance would rarely fare well against one of their kind. 

And yet… Isobu is quite content with his Jinchuuriki. Yagura  _ is  _ a perfect Jinchuuriki and this became evident not long before Yagura had essentially mastered every aspect of having a Biju sealed inside him. He's a genuinely impressive shinobi and maybe that's why, when Yagura childishly attempts to drown him out in retaliation, does he realise he's not insulted by this behaviour. 

He trusts Yagura not to get them both killed and Yagura can just about do that…bar getting them both put under genjutsu, but he won't mention that. He doesn't want to salt the wound. 

“Thanks for your help…” Yagura says, but sounds distinctly unsatisfied with his answers as he bids the shopkeeper farewell. They leave the shop and step back out into the warm streets of Yugakure.

_ “So...not quite what you wanted to hear, then?” _

Yagura palms his forehead with a low grunt, “Whatever. It’s…” He shrugs, “Doesn’t help us in the slightest. So Kirigakure hasn’t moved past being the Bloody Mist.”

_ “If anything, it sounds like it might’ve gotten worse...on your account.” _

Yagura growls, spinning on his heel and storming towards the gates with thunderous footsteps. Isobu can’t decide whether Yagura is mad at him, mad at what he said or mad at the fact that he was probably right. To be on the safe side, he settles for all three and decides to stay quiet until his Jinchuuriki blew off some steam.

Isobu chuckles. It was too good an opportunity to miss.

_ “I suppose Yugakure isn’t a good place to blow off steam, huh…?” _

Yagura shrieks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> biju should be allowed to make jokes i think


	4. Help from a Hokage

Isobu had accepted that Yagura would be unhappy with him well up to nightfall- in his defense, Biju rarely crack jokes but jokes don’t often make themselves the way that one had. Still, he can feel Yagura’s pain. Ruthless? Well, he certainly could be, but Isobu knew Yagura well. When he was hosting your entire spirit, you kind of had to.

Just like the night before, the sun is almost out of view and the warm glow of day is slowly succumbing to the chill of the night. Yagura’s eyes flit up to the inky black tips of the treetops that frame the sky above him. After a long period of silence since their departure from Yugakure, Yagura speaks softly and with discontent.

“...We’re going to need help.”

_ “Help is always good, but where are we going to turn to? Kirigakure?” _

Yagura exhales, “Well...in a perfect world, yes, I’d very much like to utilise the power of my village but that doesn’t seem like a wise place to start. I was thinking more along the lines of...another Kage.”

_ “You want to seek out another Kage to help us? It’s...well-- it isn’t a bad idea.” _

“Depending on this…’reputation’ I seem to have made for myself,” Yagura speaks with utter distaste, “I’m not sure where to turn first. Someone who’ll believe us would be nice.” He sighs, scratching the skin around his scar, “Have the Kage changed since I was last aware? Damn it, I should’ve asked back in Yugakure.”

He stops for a moment under the chilly shadow of a tree and backs against the trunk, rubbing at his face hard enough to leave striking red fingermarks. Isobu can practically feel him wavering. He lets him have his moment. Shinobi have to be strong. There’s no ifs or buts about that, they  _ have  _ to be strong and that in itself is sometimes a glaring problem.

_ “You’ve essentially been out of your own body for years, Yagura. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” _

“No- I’m...the Mizukage, there’s no excuse for this. I was appointed because I was the best of the best in the entire village. I can’t be this rusty and thoughtless-- not now.” He says quietly, in his hands. Isobu doesn’t quite expect this to precede some kind of nervous breakdown but he knows Yagura’s having a tough time getting back into the swing of things. He might be talented, but even the talented need to work to get where they are. Loss of practice means loss of skill and exercise of the mind is just as vital as exercise of the body.

After a moment, Yagura stands up properly, dusts himself off and exhales, doing his best to eject all of his problems in one breath. He heads back out with an expression that suspiciously looks like he’s trying to pretend what just happened didn’t happen. 

“It’s unbecoming.” He says, matter-of-factly. “Now, about those Kage…”

Isobu doesn’t comment on his notorious one-track mind.

“Last I recall...Hiruzen Sarutobi had taken up the post of Hokage once more after the death of the Fourth Hokage. Then, there’s the Fourth Kazekage…”

_ “With the gold dust?” _

“If he hasn’t already been assassinated, as per the running theme of being Kazekage. Then there’s that old Tsuchikage-- I don’t reckon he’s  _ capable  _ of dying. The guy’s just far too stubborn.” Yagura dismisses this with a wave of his hand, “And that Raikage. No chance.”

_ “Well, we’ll see soon enough, but where are you going now?” _

Yagura pauses and pulls a face.

“I suppose the best bet is the old Hokage.”

_ “So we’re going to Konohagakure?” _

“Sure seems like it. Why, did you want to stop?” Yagura sets off at a steady pace- the night is still young and his chakra isn’t endless, though he wishes it was. The same could be said for his appetite and he disguises a rumbling stomach with a meagre cough.

_ “I suppose it’s a solid plan as any. Are you sure we should travel through the night, though? You haven’t eaten since we left Yugakure. Actually...I don’t think you’ve eaten since we broke the genjutsu.”  _

Isobu’s suspicions are confirmed when Yagura waves his hand dismissively as he heads in the vague direction of Konohagakure with a casual saunter. “I’ll get something on the way when the sun comes up. Don’t worry about it.”

_ “If you say so…” _

All traces of sunlight have faded from the star-spotted expanse above them and the moon hangs in the sky like a fixed picture frame and twice as beautiful. It casts a cooling glow upon the surroundings. The fat leaves that stick out of the crisp branches seem to light up like fluorescent lights around them, lining the path towards the Land of Fire like living lanterns. Yagura’s always had a soft spot for the night. When stealth is a village-wide special trait, shinobi find themselves in the company of darkness long enough to make a good friend out of it. It’s familiar. It’s like a second home.

Yagura almost misses Kirigakure already. It feels like he hasn’t felt the comfort of his own village in so long and that might be true. He’s far from homesick, though. Sure, the comfort of home is nice, but when you can find comfort in a place like Kirigakure- a place that’s called the Bloody Mist for a very good reason- then you can find comfort almost anywhere.

There’s a strong sense of pride that comes with a deathly nickname like that. Though he’s opposed to the barbaric and brutal standards that are piled high on shinobi of the Mist, he, too, has felt pride in the infamy his village holds. He figures that perhaps that’s the reason many shinobi were against the abolition of their Graduation Ritual. Of course, just as many shinobi opposed the brutality and the bloodshed that came with it. Of course, it's fundamentally impossible to keep absolutely everybody happy and, though he wasn't always a decent representative of morality, he favoured the side that wanted away with the ritual. Tough decisions were a large part of being Mizukage and he was prepared for the fact that no matter what he did, there would always be someone who could find a reason to oppose him and, where there was opposition, there was a risk of mutiny. Take Zabuza, for example.

_ “Do you think they caught him?” _

Isobu expertly follows his thought pattern and injects his own query in while it’s still relevant. Yagura looks down at the ground, watching his feet for the longest time. Over that period, his eyebrows sink lower and lower until they create a most monstrous frown.

“It’s hard to say.” He grits out, “The Trackers are experts. The whole division is trained to eliminate rogues.” Though it’s something to find pride in, his terse tone provides no faith. The way he clenches his teeth gives Isobu the inkling that he  _ might  _ not be over it…

_ “I wonder what’s going to happen...?" _

“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen!” Yagura suddenly explodes in a fit of rage, stamping his feet against the cold, hard dirt as he spews venom, “I’m gonna find that  _ fucking traitor _ and he’s gonna be wondering what’s happening when I stick my  _ club  _ up his  _ ass _ !”

Any concerns on nearby shinobi discovering them is...well, what’s the point? Yagura’s ranting could easily be heard for miles but the way he’s yelling and stamping his feet is something Isobu is used to. Yagura could be quite the professional, polite and all-round deserving of his title but every now and then...this happened.

Isobu waits a while before intervening, when he thinks Yagura’s had enough.

_ “I’m sure they’ll find him. Let’s just keep going, okay? If we’re found now by whoever cast the genjutsu--” _

“--then _ he _ can catch these fucking hands  _ and  _ this club!!”

Maybe he needed a little more time.

  
  


* * *

In all his years- and whilst allowing himself to be just the tiniest bit traitorous towards his home nation- Yagura had never experienced such a refreshing morning as a morning spent in the Land of Fire. There was no mist or cloud to block out the sun and the greenery is as vibrant as ever. The sun beats down heavily upon a slightly dozy Yagura like a harsh wake-up call. A sunny slap in the face, if you will.

The impressive skyline of Konohagakure can just be seen peeking out from the thick barrier of trees that protects it from unwitting outsiders. Yagura stands upon the raised path that overlooks the village and lingers for a moment, almost admiring the view (and not recovering an ounce of strength after travelling through the night and being awake for over 24 hours).

_ “Time for a disguise…?”  _

Isobu almost sounds hopeful when he says this but Yagura falters for a second, swaying back and forth between two ideas. “Uhh...yeah, alright. I’ve got a plan.” Yagura formulates his transformation in his head as he descends the hill path and disappears amongst the trees.

A few minutes later, a fresh-faced shinobi with striking blue hair and keen eyes steps out from the path in front of the enormous gates of Konohagakure. The size of the place is enough to make him quirk a brow as he approaches the shinobi stood idly by. Naturally, that would be deceptive of them. Shinobi didn’t do ‘idle’.

“Business?” There are two of them and Yagura is sure he’s seen these two before. Either these two are proficient enough shinobi that Yagura  _ would  _ recognise them or Konoha nin all looked the same. Yagura is biased enough to believe the latter.

“I have business with the Hokage. I was sent by the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura.” He tacks his own name onto it for good measure, hoping to instill a believable sense of familiarity between himself and...well, himself. However, the two shinobi seem far more intrigued than he’d initially planned and stance themselves firmly in front of the gate.

“What business? You got identification?”

Yagura flinches inwardly- that was a problem. He hadn’t needed an ID for a long time and obviously didn’t have one for a person that didn’t exist. His eyes narrow as he has to look up to inspect the faces of these shinobi. Whoever they were, they hadn’t seen through his jutsu yet.

“That’s a private matter between the Hokage and the Mizukage. I was instructed to pass a message that would make it by this morning. It’s now morning and I have a job to do.” He tries to feign annoyance which is redundant anyway because he  _ is  _ annoyed but he knows the situation can’t help it. He’d need some serious charm to be able to bluff his way out of providing an ID. 

The two shinobi merely smirk and Yagura is appalled.

“Sorry, kid. No ID, no entry. Them’s the rules-- especially if you’re lookin’ to see the Hokage. If the message is as important as you say it is, you should’ve thought of that before coming here.” The nin shrugs with indifference and, if this situation were real, Yagura would perfectly agree with this man, but being on the opposing side, he was just becoming irate.

“Who are you calling a kid?! I’ll have you know, I’m an adult.” Yagura can’t stop himself from blurting that out-- he’s very defensive and Isobu inwardly cringes watching this display. It’s hard to be Yagura when you can’t be Yagura.

The Konoha nin both look equally surprised, having touched a serious nerve, but the one with the abundance of hair squints at him with the same expression as before. “Simple mistake to make-- wouldn’t have happened if you had an ID.”

That’s enough to make Yagura fume, inwardly  _ and  _ outwardly and if Isobu could, he knows he’d be physically restraining his host from dealing some serious damage to these two. Yagura isn’t sure whether or not to drop his disguise and dish out a serious bollocking to the two guards or just find another way. The way this is going, the former idea is beginning to look far too tempting.

_ “Now’s not the time to cause trouble!” _

Yagura concedes with the grumpiest sigh. “I’ll have you know, I don’t have an ID. There were...problems with it.” He replies, offhandedly. “But, if you’re going to shrug off the fact the Mizukage may be in mortal peril over a stupid ID, then fine!” He folds his arms with enough effort to dislocate a shoulder and the two ninja look borderline incredulous.

“Huh...what happened to your business being a ‘private matter’ between the Hokage and Mizukage?” 

Before the shinobi can snark about his absolutely abysmal skills as a messenger, along with his lack of confidentiality, Yagura squares up to him with such aggression that he reels back slightly and they’re practically nose-to-nose as he hisses, “ _ I changed my mind _ .”

The situation is suddenly suspended in tension as Yagura glares at both of them. They hold their ground with no evidence of a thought of retreat and Yagura can commend that. They  _ are  _ just doing their jobs and he's very sure they've earned the trust of their Hokage because of it but he’s losing his patience and when he loses his patience, he loses his composure and his loss of composure has a body count.

“If you don’t let me in, then fetch Lord Hokage- and if you’re not gonna fetch him, then I’ll make sure your necks are on the same line that mine is.  _ Understand _ ?”

The pause is deathly. It’s the kind of silence that precedes a sudden murder and if these two chuunin didn’t hop to it, then it was about to be.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” They’re all seconds away from drawn kunai and necks slashed and Yagura cools down for a moment and decides that this isn’t a savoury situation to be in. He needs to avoid as much conflict as possible; he considers releasing his transformation but there’s no telling who’s in league with the man behind the genjutsu.

_ “Yagura…” _

Yagura smiles slyly. An idea springs to mind. “Isobu.”

“E...Eh?” The Konoha nin repeats. Yagura’s previously tense expression is replaced with something much more placid as he relaxes his stance. Isobu’s getting a funny feeling about all of this but Yagura isn’t so incompetent that he can’t dig his way out of a hole he dug himself. 

“Listen...I won’t tell you who I am, but I’m more than happy to give you a taste of some...special chakra.” He says carefully, before extending three spindly fingers. “Chakra with three tails on it.”

Succeeding his words, his skin begins to crawl and prickle with the familiar sensation of Isobu’s chakra. It’s warm in hue; swirling and folding in on itself with every movement and visible to the human eye, clearly enough. The two shinobi, still stanced defensively, which he can respect immensely, are wide-eyed. Who wouldn’t be? It’s not every day you came face to face with a Jinchuuriki.

There's a pause where Yagura can pinpoint the exact moment the penny drops for both of them, which is good because he was beginning to get tired. 

"You won't speak a word of my presence here to anyone. Not even each other. Understand?" Yagura's voice is still and cold as the chakra warps around his small frame, flickering threateningly. There's no faking this kind of chakra. It's no illusion- it's distinguishable enough as it is and Konoha shinobi should know Biju chakra when they see it by now. 

As quickly as it came, the chakra disperses before anyone else gets a chance to see it. Yagura sighs, feeling deflated, but maintains his stern expression so as not to break intimidation. 

"I'll see myself to Lord Hokage and tell him what I need to tell him- then I'll be on my way. Let me through." He reiterates. The two shinobi linger in their defensive positions, eager to defend to the very last minute, before reluctantly stepping aside. There really was no mistaking this kind of chakra, which was more than enough for them to ID this young man as the Fourth Mizukage. 

They nod solemnly, silently, but dissatisfied by the turn of events as Yagura, maintaining his physical disguise, steps past and into the bustle of Konohagakure. He doesn't look back on them. He doesn't need to. 

_ "So you can be ruthless…"  _

"When I need to be." Yagura allows himself the tiniest smirk of victory which was probably undeserved in the current state. Isobu sighs. 

_ "You realise someone could've sensed your chakra that way, right? Hiding ourselves physically is one thing, but if the wrong person gets even a whiff of your chakra, we're in trouble."  _

Isobu's warning is sensible and perfectly rational in the present situation, even though he knows his host is more than capable of defending himself. Yagura has to admit that he's right- that little stunt alone was risky if he wanted to remain absolutely concealed. Still… 

_ "You've always been a sore loser…"  _

Yagura laughs. 

* * *

Konohagakure is exactly how Yagura remembers it being. Overwhelmingly busy- there’s a bigger abundance of civilians in this village than back home and it offers some novel sights for him. Luckily, despite the amount of buildings, built to look precariously stacked on top of one another, the roads are simple enough to allow one solid beeline towards the Hokage building, which made his job of navigating the village that much easier.

The sudden smell of savoury noodles and broth is an assault on Yagura’s ever-increasing appetite and he feels his stomach turn on itself uncomfortably. After this, he promises himself, it was time for food. Ramen wasn’t a bad shout for a proper meal- there was a dango shop even further down the road which piqued his interest as well. Guess it was hard to go hungry in a place like this.

He maintains his disguise all the way towards the Hokage building, past the array of shops and civilian homes, past the academy training ground where he spies a group of younger students practising their first jutsus- it makes him feel nostalgic, in a sense. 

He thinks back to his own graduation exam. At such a tender age, he could’ve easily been one of the nameless faces of genin-to-be that never made it. It was such a waste…

_ “We’re here.”  _ Isobu doesn’t need to say this, but he doesn’t like where Yagura’s train of thought is heading and tries to divert it by bringing him back into the present. The Hokage building looms over them both, practically exuding power by size alone but the small Mizukage is far from daunted. If you told him that size doesn’t mean power then you’d be preaching to the choir.

He walks in with no hesitation- he’s surprised there’s nobody stationed by the gates that are set into the big stone wall that wraps itself around the building, large and defensive. Everything is painted a fiery red, no guesses there in the Land of Fire, but it makes the surroundings look remarkably regal in its own way. Konohagakure is praisable for its strength and he supposes this is one way to show it.

Not posting guards outside the Hokage building could also be another way, but he’d venture that this is not so wise. 

Though he’s been here a few times in the past, it’s still a little unfamiliar to him. He doesn’t know this place like the back of his hand like Kirigakure-- Kirigakure, he could navigate with ease through mist, rain and flood. The place could be blown to bloody bits and he’d still know where everything is. Konohagakure, conversely, looked like it’d  _ already  _ been blown to bits and he still didn’t know where the hell anything was.

He knocks on the door, out of a sense of politeness, before opening it and poking his head in. It’s a lot cooler indoors than it is outside and he shuts the door behind him, eyeing the empty corridors. He knew the Hokage’s residence resided in this building somewhere and he didn’t want to accidentally intrude in a manner utterly unbefitting of Mizukage.

He decides now might be a good time to drop his troublemaking disguise. As he reforms his real appearance, Isobu pipes up,  _ “It’s up two flights of stairs and straight ahead.”  _

“How’d you know that?” Yagura scratches his head but makes haste upstairs anyway, trusting his Biju. Isobu seems to give the impression that he’s shrugging,  _ “Whilst I’ve spent most of the time in Kirigakure, I’ve had the pleasure to be sealed inside people who’ve visited the Hokage in the past.” _

“You remember all that, huh? You must’ve seen a lot in your lifetime.” Yagura comments mildly, traversing the stairs two at a time and with the energy of a child.  _ “Oh, I have. They’re not all good. People seem to forget I can see everything from this perspective…” _

Isobu sounds like he’s pointedly inferring something from that statement and Yagura doesn’t even want to begin recalling anything unsavoury he’s done in the past when he thought nobody was looking. This was a lifelong bond, he couldn’t be subject to crushing regret just yet. He shakes his head, amusedly, before knocking on a particularly foreboding door in the exact place Isobu had said it would be.

“Come in…?”

Yagura does just that. He’s not expecting this situation to be an easy one and the rather bewildered expression of Hiruzen Sarutobi, Third Hokage, is one to expect. Yagura purses his lips in a somewhat sheepish fashion as he politely and quietly shuts the door behind him.

There’s a nice bout of silence as Yagura clears his throat, doing his best to look as dignified in the eyes of a senior shinobi. “Lord Hokage. Good morning…” He begins. He doesn’t finish, though. 

“Lord Mizukage…?” It’s not a question, but it was definitely curious. Kage didn’t often turn up unannounced on the doorsteps of other Kage but Yagura hadn’t a choice in the matter, so he’s virtually blameless here. He rests his hands behind his back.

“I know this is unexpected…”

“This is...more than unexpected. Are you alone?” The Hokage notes the absence of any other Kiri nin in the area as he places his pipe down on the desk. Yagura suddenly adopts a weary posture, as he sags slightly on the spot. “I had to be.” He replies.

“You had to be?”

Yagura can’t sense the chakra of any shinobi nearby and, though he’s reluctant to reveal his predicament to anybody else, Isobu was right- they needed help. Yagura’s not the easily-trusting type, nor is any good shinobi, but in all the years he’s been alive and all the stories told of the Third Hokage, he knows this is as good as he’ll get.

“I need to tell you something very important…”

The Hokage raises an eyebrow. 

“...but I request you permit me one thing before I tell you. I want to make sure you’re not under the influence of any genjutsu, whether you’re aware of it or not.” Yagura insists firmly. The Hokage gazes at him with steely eyes, before clucking his tongue as a sign of amusement at his younger. “I’ll assume that you have reason to be so distrustful, so I’ll agree. You appear to be alone, so I suppose this is important.”

Yagura doesn’t drop his guard, not even for a second, as he undergoes the process of disrupting the Hokage’s chakra flow to release him from any possible genjutsu. It’s a tense moment, quiet, save for the birds sat on the windowsill outside, and Yagura can feel the stony gaze of the stern faces carved into the cliff not too far away. 

He finally deems the situation safe and the Hokage uncompromised; Isobu seems contented as well. The Mizukage politely takes a seat across the desk from the great leader of Konohagakure. It’s only now does he realise, though the windows are open- the sun blazing down onto the rock face just beyond the building- the room smells stuffy. The papers and scrolls piled high fills the place with a musky scent- Yagura doesn’t want to be rude and attribute it to the Hokage’s age. Old or not, it still smelled dignified. It smells like a room crammed with decades of wisdom.

“So...will you tell me why you’re here?”

Yagura clears his throat, crosses his legs, and begins. He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on his knees throughout the story and doesn’t gauge the Hokage’s reaction once until he is done. When he finally stops speaking, he dares to look up.

The Hokage’s expression has always been hard to define. Hard to see past. It’s about as movable in expression as the crusty old stone doppelganger Yagura can make out in his peripheral vision. His brow is quirked but his eyes aren’t nearly as steely as they were before. They’re softer and full of concern, but it looks like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s just heard.

“So...a genjutsu, eh?” He takes up his pipe, gets out of his chair, and lingers by the window, allowing himself a puff. Yagura does not object, as the Hokage does what the Hokage wants in his own residence. “One strong enough to take you and the Biju under control.” A thick cloud of smoke billows from his lips and slowly fades into the air, slipping through one of the open windows.

“I don’t know know-- Isobu tells me he once saw a man in a mask and a cloak, but that’s all.”

The Hokage hums, and it sounds like a deep rumble, like rolling thunder. “Is anyone else in Kirigakure aware of this?”

“I can’t imagine so.” Yagura replies, “I haven’t been back to the village since Isobu broke the genjutsu. I haven’t told anyone about this but you.” He’s still unsure of whether any of his actions thus far have been wise ones. He can’t be sure until he faces the outcomes.

“Do you have any idea who could be behind this? Or-- at least, what kind of genjutsu this is?” Yagura looks uncertain and uncomfortable, despite his attempts to remain calm and composed. He places his hands on his knees, hoping for any kind of lead.

The Hokage smokes his pipe thoughtfully, eyes glazed over. “Hmm. I can think of several people. People who could exercise a plot like this to work to their interests. However, it’s hard to say. As for the genjutsu…”

Yagura doesn’t feel demotivated. He listens intently. “Yes?”

“Well, I daresay not anyone could perform such a genjutsu. Don’t use my words to incriminate anybody but either people with special genjutsu skills or people with ocular skills would be able to.”

“Ocular...like the sharingan?”

“Like I said, don’t jump to conclusions, but it’s possible.”

“I understand.” Yagura nods his head, his gaze is still stuck to the floor as he thinks of somebody, anybody, with the motive and the skills but he’s utterly eluded, since the whole world could be against him. The Hokage returns to his seat. 

“How long were you under this genjutsu?”

Yagura feels a little less inclined to provide this information, but help is help and it might not help him to keep things to himself right now. “A few years. Most of my time as Mizukage, actually…”

The Hokage’s eyebrows raise significantly from under the brim of his hat. “That long?” He says, with mild surprise. “So you mean to say that the Mizukage I’ve been in contact with- the one in charge of Kirigakure- for the past few years has been someone else?”

“I assume. Using me as some kind of puppet, perhaps. I...am under the assumption that they've been giving me quite the reputation.” Yagura coughs into his hand, bitterly recalling the words of the old man from Yugakure.

“Mmm. You could say that. You aren’t called the leader of the ‘Bloody Mist’ for nothing.”

“As I’ve come to expect.” Yagura suppresses the deepest frown. He’s come to despise that nickname and the awful reputation that pushes his village away from the rest. Kirigakure shouldn’t have to thrive on isolation. 

“Then...will you return to Kirigakure?”

Yagura sits back in his chair, now feeling the exhaustion of walking through the day and night to be here. Though his mind is on his village, his stomach wants food. He shakes his head softly. “I’m unsure. I reckon if I return too soon, whoever placed me under the genjutsu will find me. Not that I can’t defend myself,” He adds, “but it’s hard to prepare. I have no idea what to expect.”

“That’s understandable. You must be cautious not to be caught again.” He says sagely, “But if you’re not going to return to Kirigakure, then what will you do? Your village still needs you.”

“I have no leads to go on, so I wouldn’t know where to start. I may circle the Land of Water and see what I can find.”

“I suspect the information you seek is closer to Kirigakure than here. Though it might not be wise an action, for the sake of your safety, it might be necessary.” Yagura deeply appreciates that the Hokage seems to understand his situation. He’d never really gotten along well with any of the other Kage- they’d drank just a little too much from the fountain of absolute condescension and Yagura, being fairly young (young for an adult, he’d say) for someone of his position, they’d felt more inclined to take him far less seriously.

OId man Hokage, on the other hand, seemed to see worth in the little things, too. Yagura doesn’t remember many times where he’d spoken with this man directly, though it occurs to him the Hokage would’ve spoken to him plenty of times whilst under genjutsu. He’s actually a little saddened by this fact.

“It could be possible that it has something to do with your Biju. Whether it be good or bad, Jinchuuriki have quite a reputation. Of course, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess that’s not an unreasonable assumption.” Yagura admits. “I was the only one under genjutsu and also the only one of the Five Kage currently possessing a Biju...but if it was Isobu they wanted, I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken him from the beginning.”

The Hokage sits back comfortably in his chair. The white cloth that drapes from the brim of his hat falls over his shoulders with content. “Though that may be true, there’s a lot of use for a Mizukage with a Biju. Using you to the full extent and then taking the Biju would most likely be more...efficient.”

Yagura doesn’t like being in the position of a victim. He finds it unnatural and he’s very unaccustomed to being in this situation. He’s not been a fan of the damsel in distress trope and he never will be.

“Well, like I said, your solution will be closer to home than here, but it may not hurt to bring this to the next Kage summit. After all, a Kage under genjutsu is nothing to shrug off.” He says and Yagura isn’t so sure he wants this to be brought to the summit. It might make him feel even more incompetent than he already did.

“Perhaps.” He decides to say, vaguely.

“In that case, I’ll keep it between us up until that point and I’ll suggest a summit to be held sometime in the near future. I’m aware that you might not exactly just be able to sit around and wait...but you’re welcome to stay in Konohagakure for as long as you like.” He lifts his pipe with a smile, “That is...providing, you  _ are  _ you.”

Whilst Yagura doesn’t always appreciate charity, he smiles. Genuinely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it dawns on me that yagura may be very ooc but kishimoto did not give him nearly enough love so i couldnt care less tbh


	5. Konohagakure- the City of Ramen

The sun is a lot harsher than it had been before, now directly overhead and the heat bears down on Yagura a little more than he’d initially thought. He appreciates a nice day here but he’s unaccustomed to harsh sunlight and high temperatures. It made the Land of Wind one of the more unpleasant places to travel, especially if you throw in the lack of humidity. That was fine by Yagura, anyway. The Kazekage didn’t seem like the nicest man in the world to him so he was more than happy to skip it.

The illusion of an entirely different persona is now back, though a little different than before. He’d adopted his previous visual of a Kirigakure nin, though altered it slightly just in case. He’s remarkably good at looking casual in foreign places. Isobu doesn’t know how he does it but he seems to look like he fits in wherever he goes.

_ “Do you think a summit is a good idea? I wonder if the Masked Man will know about these kinds of things.” _

“Unless he’s got ears in the Hokage’s office, I don’t think so-- and unless the Hokage is working in league with him…” The thought makes Yagura pull a face. It was virtually the job of a shinobi to be distrustful, no matter how difficult and unpleasant it might be. 

_ “Maybe we should take measures in case we get caught again. Find someone who we know for sure is not in league with this guy- and in case he finds out through the Hokage.” _

“Isobu, I haven’t really spoken to anyone from Kirigakure in the last few years. I don’t really know what my relationship with anyone is. Not right now, anyway.” He rests his hands behind his head and though the conversation pertains to a serious matter, his eyes are too preoccupied with looking at the food stalls. 

_ “Then I guess I’ll think about it.” _

“You do that.” Yagura dismisses cheerfully, “I fancy ramen.”

* * *

Ichiraku Ramen is a small, yet very welcoming little shop with only a few spaces to sit but a wonderfully savoury scent coming from the kitchen behind the bar. Yagura can’t believe he’s actually feeling genuinely excited at the prospect of a huge bowl of piping hot food to eat but, hey, sometimes it was the little things in life that you had to enjoy. 

_ “Yagura, you don’t have any money.” _

Yagura sort of shrugs at thin air, “So I’ll find a way around it. Hush.” He whispers, leaning on his elbow against the counter as he eyes the little food joint. Comfy, welcoming and, judging by smell alone, probably not too bad for food. The girl stood behind the bar was pretty cute as well, as she approaches him with a cloth in her hand, wiping down the surface.

“Hi! What can I get you?”

“Hey, uh...hmm.” Yagura hums to himself, squinting for a moment, “Say, I’m not from around here. Why don’t you gimme what you think is best, huh?” He says, a cheeky twang to his voice that’s quite shockingly charismatic. The girl smiles sweetly, nods, and turns back to the kitchen.

Isobu really doesn’t know how he does it. No matter where he is, he always manages to find some way to be overwhelmingly...him. He couldn’t even be accurately described as a ‘people person’ but, even when he’s feigning just about everything, he could really only be perfectly summed-up as Yagura. He thinks that kind of individuality is rare these days.

But that’s not what catches Isobu’s attention.

_ “Yagura.”  _ He urges,  _ “Next to you...look!” _

What Isobu sees might be a lot different from what Yagura sees, but both are piqued in curiosity. Yagura is the only one out of the two of them who can actually exercise this curiosity and he always manages to make the most of it.

What Yagura sees, sat next to him, is a young boy- maybe twelve, give or take a year or so. There’s a lot that his eyes have to unpack suddenly and it’s not even the shocking blonde hair and the hideously orange jumpsuit half tied around the kids waist that takes him aback but it’s the stack- and stack is meant quite literally- of bowls sat on the table that one can only really assumed that he’s managed to absolutely cane his way through with the ferocity of one very hungry and very feral beast.

Or maybe a feral child. He’s yet to see any traits that distinguish one from another, these days.

Isobu goes very quiet.

“Jeez, kid, you managed to get your way through all of that?” Yagura finds it easy to strike up conversation but, at this point, he really would like to know what kind of force this child possesses to be able to eat this much. 

The kid finishes his mouthful and looks up at him brightly. He’s got wild streaks across his cheeks that look like whiskers and, though they’d be a very distinguishable trait on anyone else, they seem to suit him so well it’s like it’s not even strange. 

“Mhm! Ichiraku ramen is the best ramen! I could eat it all day!” He announces loudly and Yagura very quickly realises that this boy isn’t just obnoxiously loud in appearance. He rests his chin comfortably on his hand and just watches as the boy finishes what could be his sixth bowl in one fell swoop.

“I sure hope you’ve got a big wallet to match that big mouth of yours. Eating that much can’t be cheap.” He prods, good-naturedly and the kid somehow manages to grin sheepishly without any sheepishness at all. 

_ “Hypocrite.” _

“Nah. My teacher pays for it, most of the time- or old man Hokage.” He sets his bowl aside with the others, proudly stacking them like an impressive trophy and, Yagura has to admit, he is really quite impressed. 

At that moment, the pretty girl with the brown hair comes back from the kitchen and sets a steaming hot bowl of food right in front of Yagura with so much enthusiasm that he’s surprised she hasn’t managed to spill it all over the counter.

“It’s our Ichiraku special! Enjoy, okay?” She claps her hands together quite happily and Yagura has to admit he’s never seen people with this much enthusiasm for ramen in his life. Was this just a common occurrence in Konohagakure? Was everybody here just ramen-crazy?

“Thanks.” He says gratefully, before adding, “Ah, yeah, I just came from the Hokage’s office. Do me a favour and forward the bill for this to him, alright?” He brandishes his chopsticks with a grin that seems to make the girl giggle just a little more than she should as she scurries back into the kitchen with her hands over her flushed cheeks. Yagura snaps his chopsticks and he can actually feel the judgement radiating from inside his body.

_ “Yagura! You can’t just do that! What do you think you’re doing?!” _

He stifles a laugh to himself, “I’m sorry, it’s really bad, I know-- but I’m actually starving and I’m broke. I hope he doesn’t mind too much. I'll pay him back when this is all sorted." He can’t help himself- it was a shockingly cheeky thing to do, especially in a foreign land- but he has no way of getting money without going back to Kirigakure and he knows he can get away with this without backlash, but the audacity of his own actions still makes him laugh.

_ “For the leader of a great nation, you sure are terrible. Exploiting the old man's hospitality like that.” _

Yagura’s mouth twists in silent mirth and he urges himself to calm down so he can eat and it genuinely shocks him how good this ramen really is. He’d never had ramen like this back in Kirigakure- it had to be a Konohagakure thing. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop him from scarfing the bowl down with no worry of making himself sick.

As he savours a bite of meat and vegetables, he can feel a pair of eyes boring into him from beside him.

“You know old man Hokage too, huh? Does he pay for your food as well?” The kid leans over the counter, smiling up at him with full-forced sunshine energy. Yagura smiles around his mouthful as he swallows, “Not always. Just the one time, since I’m on business.”

“Business? Oh, so you’re not from around here! Is this your first time in Konohagakure?”

This boy sure can fire off a lot of questions. Even if he is a kid, Yagura doesn’t want to give too much away. He distracts his mouth with a mouthful of ramen whilst his brain thinks of an answer.

“Yeah. I’m from Kirigakure, but this is my first time in Konohagakure. You guys have pretty good ramen, it seems.” Part of him doesn’t even care what he’s eating at the moment- if it was edible and it was hot then that was good enough for him. It was just an added bonus that he’d managed to pick out something delicious. He'd have to thank that girl behind the counter when he was done.

“Kirigakure’s a long way from here, isn’t it? Do you guys not have very good ramen there?”

Yagura decides he doesn’t mind a short chat whilst he eats. “I guess not. I suppose we have better food than ramen back home, though.” He could think of a few examples in his mind, but he wouldn’t go into explicit detail for the sake of his stomach. He can’t push another food bill onto the Hokage.

“Nothing’s better than ramen!” The kid declares defensively, “So are you a ninja?”

Yagura is slightly bewildered by this kid’s inability to stay on one topic long enough to have a conversation. He finds it funny, in a way. He doesn’t normally meet kids like this back home. He seemed so happy-go-lucky.

“You ask a lot of questions, kid.”

“Do I?”

Yagura laughs, finishing off his food and setting the bowl aside politely. “Yes, you do. Are you a ninja?” He flips the question right back at him teasingly and the boy crosses his arms with maximum effort. 

“More than that! I’m gonna be Hokage in the future! So make sure you remember what I look like!”

This sparks Yagura’s interest immensely. His eyes flash in that special way they seem to do as he rests on the counter, making sure to remember him, just like he says he should. Lots of kids wanted to be Kages. It was a fairly common dream. Of course, that meant it was more unattainable than anything else on the job market. Depending on how well they fared, you wouldn’t see many Kages in one lifetime but there’s something that tells him this kid is one to watch out for.

“So what’s your name then, Mr Future Hokage?”

“Heheh, it’s Naruto!”

* * *

With his appetite satiated and no time to waste, Yagura sets off after his interestingly amusing chat with young Naruto (and after having said goodbye to the pretty girl behind the bar). His ears are filled with consistent bustle and it seems there are even more people out now than earlier in the morning. He has no idea how many people actually live in Konoha and, seeing how rambunctious and hardheaded some of the civilians seemed to be just from observation, he’s not sure he wants to stick around and see. Still, there’s something novel about this place that he can appreciate.

Still, he couldn’t stick around to have a good time. In favour of ramen, it seems the looming threat of an unknown enemy had slipped from his mind for a while. He heads leisurely towards the gate, outwardly appearing to have absolutely no agenda.

It’s only just before he reaches the gate and he recalls the Hokage’s conversation in his mind does he notice Isobu has been oddly quiet. That’s not to say being quiet was odd- Isobu was one of the more mild-mannered Biju who rarely kicked up a fuss without actual provocation but Yagura had hosted him long enough to know when quiet was too quiet.

“Isobu.”

_ “Yagura...you know that kid. Have you ever seen him before?” _

Come to think about it, Isobu had sort of drifted from conversation right around the time Yagura had struck up conversation with Naruto. “Nope. Never in my life.” He habitually bites the inside of his cheek before smiling, “You’d think I’d recognise a kid who dresses that badly.” 

_ “...” _

“Why? Should I know who he is?” Yagura’s expression seems to twist in the direction that he’s thinking. “It sounded like he knew the Hokage. Maybe it was his grandkid or something.” Isobu doesn’t want to say Yagura is being too dismissive but it proves that Yagura hadn’t been able to pick up on it the way he could. That’s not to say he just didn’t, but if Yagura had the ability to do so, he would’ve done it.

_ “That child was a Jinchuuriki.” _

“A  _ what?!” _

Yagura slams his mouth shut quicker than it takes Isobu to scold him for yelling out loud. He’d had a feeling that Isobu had something to say but he didn’t think it’d be  _ that _ . His eyes dart around quickly to see if anyone had heard him but, to his fortune, he was in the clear.

“What do you mean he’s a Jinchuuriki?! Aw, damn it, why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” Yagura hisses.

_ “Uh, because you would’ve reacted like that! That would’ve looked weird! I mean-- it’s not important right this minute but I just thought you should know.” _

Yagura stops for a moment and looks down, but his eyes aren’t focused and he’s thinking quickly. “That...could’ve been bad, then. I mean-- if we were targeted for being Jinchuuriki like the Hokage suggested, he could’ve just as well been--”

_ “No, he’s not. I know that much. Kurama seemed just fine.” _

“Kurama?”

_ “The Nine-Tails.” _

Yagura sets back off, albeit a little slower in pace than before. “The fox, huh? And in such a small kid, too. Y’know, I had no idea.” He speaks quietly as he approaches the gate and he adopts that special glint in his eye as he passes the two guards from before, letting them know that, yes, he’s very much the same person as before and the threat from earlier is still in effect. They say nothing and that’s good enough for him.

_ “I didn’t expect you to. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge amongst the Kages, though. Not that you’d be up to date.” _

“So we’re back to that, are we?”

The wind rustles pleasantly, sifting through the trees and brushing Yagura’s hair out of his face. It provides a refreshingly cool sensation and solace from the heat of the midday sun, something which Yagura knows he’ll struggle under soon if he sticks around. He’s craving the homely sensation of cool mist but it’s not much of a consolation when he knows he has no choice but to return to Kirigakure.

_ “So...Kirigakure?” _

“Sure seems that way.”

_ “If we’re careful not to come across anyone, I’m sure we’ll be okay. Just...don’t go using my chakra for stupid reasons, okay?” _

Yagura feels a vein pop on his forehead as he grits his teeth, “If I hadn’t done that, then they probably wouldn’t have let us in. I know it was risky, but we got what we wanted. It’s not like they know where we’re going.”

_ “So...they wouldn’t think that the Mizukage of Kirigakure...would be going back to Kirigakure?” _

“Alright, fine, let’s take the long way around then, okay?” He grumps and Isobu can feel he’s coming close to stomping all the way back to Kirigakure, regardless of who could hear him. He rolls his eyes to himself, even though he knows nobody will see it. Regardless of how irritating a hurdle it could be for both of them, he supposes it’s just a part of Yagura that he’s come to like...sometimes.

_ “That’s not what I meant. Just be careful.” _

“I am being careful! I know what I’m doing now.”

_ “And try not to push your food bills onto anyone else until we get there.” _

“God, will you let that one go?! It was  _ one time!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ kishimoto: can i get like five more of these little pink eyed bitches??


	6. Yagura and Isobu

There’s something eerily calming about walking across the water. Though it exerted roughly the same amount of chakra used for walking up walls and trees, and with even finer accuracy, there was something that felt different when traversing the waves. It was very rare to ever come across a shinobi walking the same path as you across water, which meant these journeys were peaceful, if not a little lacking in companionship.

As easy as Yagura found it to socialise with virtually anybody, he appreciated being alone quite a bit more than other people. Of course, he was never  _ truly  _ alone with Isobu residing inside him but when Isobu timed out and left him to his thoughts, it was as good as he could get.

Water was his element. It always has been and always will be. He had a natural affinity for it and a fondness that stemmed from being born in Kirigakure. It was why he enjoyed the long walks across the watery plains. It made him feel like he was the only person in the world and sometimes he needed that much.

They’d passed through Yugakure territory once more, rather than approaching Kirigakure from the west, straight out of Konohagakure. Yagura’s sights were set on one of the northern islands of the Mist, a little further away from the others. He reckoned he’d have a poke around, see what was what, maybe get a little information and then move on. It probably wasn't the best idea to loiter in one place for too long.

_ “I suppose we’re just holding out for the Kage Summit now, aren’t we…?” _

Isobu’s voice cracks the soothing silence but not unpleasantly. Being a maritime creature of sorts, his voice somehow manages to mingle perfectly with the sounds of flowing water and it doesn’t sound a note out of place.

“I suppose for long-term goals…” Yagura agrees softly, treading so lightly across the water that it looks as if it takes no effort at all. “For now, we’re heading to the north. I’ll see if we can get some information about what’s going on in the village.”

_ “That sounds as good a plan as any.” _

“I do try my best.”

There’s no wind in the air and the water is curiously quiet. Yagura can feel a tremble under his skin.

“What’s wrong?”

_ “With me…?” _

Yagura laughs breathily. He doesn’t make the quip the response has so nicely set up for him.

_ “...I’m worried. About what’s going on, that is.” _

“That’s reasonable.”

_ “Are you scared…?” _

“Are you?”

This isn’t a conversation of words. Whatever Isobu says could be totally belied by the little twinges of emotion he emits that Yagura has learnt to pinpoint over his years of becoming accustomed to his presence.

_ “I’m not sure.” _

“You don’t have any reason to be afraid. I wonder if sometimes you forget exactly what you are.”

_ “And what am I…?” _

“You’re a sixty-foot, billion tonne sea monster made of chakra with the ability to flatten anything you wanted to.”

There’s something there that Yagura grasps but he’s not sure what it is. It could be a laugh.

_ “Is that all you think I am?” _

“Don’t be stupid.”

It’s not a conversation of words.

_ “I’ll gloss over the billion tonne remark-- I suppose you’re not wrong.” _

“So what have you to be worried about?”

_ “I wonder if you forget that we Biju still manage to be captured by humans.” _

“It’s not like you can die, is it?”

_ “But you can.” _

…

There’s a lot that Yagura could say- almost too much- but he can only give one answer and he feels like there’s not enough he can cram into a single sentence. That’s okay, though, because he doesn’t need to. Just as Yagura can, Isobu can understand him through the small twitches of emotion and sometimes those little twitches mean a lot more than hundreds and hundreds of words. Sometimes, those twitches can say things that words can’t and, though Yagura has never alluded to it, he has a fondness for a bond like this. He can be understood without having to explain himself and that’s good because sometimes even he can’t understand himself. Such was the way of humans.

“I’m not going to die.”

Yagura didn’t become a perfect Jinchuuriki just by working hard to control his Biju. In fact, something fundamentally misunderstood by most, is that he doesn’t even need to control his Biju. Isobu wasn’t under his control- not really. Not unless he needed to be and that was virtually never.

Jinchuuriki and Biju never start off as friends. Sometimes it stays that way and sometimes it doesn’t but the beginning is always the same. What it turns into is up to the Jinchuuriki. That’s where the hard work comes in. 

You could say the hard work is like training and yet also absolutely nothing like training whatsoever. Biju had an immense amount of power that, yes, did often require in physical work. When exerting this energy and utilising the power, that was where it got tricky and required a lot of effort because it was so easy to spiral out of it and before you know it, the Biju is controlling  _ you. _

Becoming the perfect Jinchuuriki didn’t just take power. In fact, maybe it didn’t take power at all. It required a different kind of power and one that shockingly isn’t found in many people.

The Jinchuuriki and Biju never start off as friends. Depending on the Jinchuuriki, this might be a blameless situation. Through no real fault of their own, the creature sealed inside them despises them and that is a remarkably hard situation but not entirely unfounded. After all, Biju aren’t exactly seen as friendly creatures. They’re feared, above all else, and, in the human attempt to gain some confidence over a creature massively more powerful than them, they’re ostracized as a concept and pushed away. Shunned.

And this behaviour extends to the Jinchuuriki. Isobu knows this. Yagura knows this. Every person to become a Jinchuuriki knows this and they know it well. Yagura can’t blame Isobu or any of the other Biju for reacting this way in a world full of humans that despise their very existence. What else is there to do than despise them right back?

Despite Yagura’s previous definition of a Biju- of Isobu- he wasn’t being entirely open about what he meant and Isobu knows this well enough not to have to press him for a better answer. He’s happy with this.

Because, in the simplest terms possible, they’re...friends. Not something you’d normally find yourself saying in regards to a Biju, or anything else of that nature, but that’s as good a way to describe it as any.

In a Biju-Jinchuuriki relationship, something that was about as long-term as you could get (since it quite literally did last a lifetime), what else could you do? Some people were incompatible with Biju outright but those who were had work ahead of them but, being guided and surrounded by people who were not Jinchuuriki, they never really realised what kind of work had to be done.

If you were going to have a Biju sealed inside of you and you were determined to make the best of it, what else was there to do than make friends with it? It sounded stupid when phrased in that manner but...that was it.

Isobu is not as hostile as the other Biju, Yagura has come to learn. He’s not as grouchy and unforgiving as Shukaku and doesn’t play up the way the stubborn Kurama did and Yagura was surprised to learn that. Whilst Isobu didn’t exactly play ball at the very beginning, and he was still just as capable of going out of control as any other Biju, Yagura got the feeling that he’d gotten a bit of a break when Isobu was sealed inside him.

Of course, it was never outwardly stated but Yagura recognised enough cues to know when they were getting on better terms and slowly, through his actions in the outside world, he’d proved to Isobu to be someone trustworthy and powerful. Something of a friend.

Isobu sort of doubted this the whole way through. He could honestly say he’d had more unpleasant Jinchuuriki but Yagura was different. Treated him differently. He’d chat to him, even if he wasn’t listening. He’d talk, even though he never expected an answer and after a while, his voice and his words became pleasant to listen to.

It was mortality that brought them to actual friendship. The role of a Jinchuuriki was perilous at the best of times and the one cold hard fact that could not be denied was if a Biju was extracted from a person, that person would die. There was no way around it. That’s how it was. If Isobu were to be extracted from Yagura, Yagura would die and back then, though Isobu would hardly complain about being freed, he didn’t really want Yagura to die. He’d often pondered if his own freedom would be worth it. It was tough and he could never really come up with an answer. It seemed that even Biju occasionally faced the tough hurdle of morality.

He got an answer in the end though. Though he didn’t realise it initially, it could only work if the two were on the same wavelength. 

It went without saying that Yagura would avoid having his Biju extracted. He’d avoid being captured by anyone who wanted the Biju and train hard enough to fight off anyone who came after him. Why wouldn’t he? After all, if Isobu was taken from him, his time in this world would be up. It was easy to understand.

However, after quite a while, Isobu had come to learn that it wasn’t as easy as he thought it was. In fact, it was somehow even easier and he didn’t know how to feel having not picked up on it. Perhaps it was the surprise of it. Nowadays, however, it comes as no surprise to him. It’s something he knows well and trusts in.

“I’m not going to let them take you.” Yagura says quietly, though there’s nobody around to hear him. It feels like it’s been almost an hour since anything had been said but who’s to say. The way he speaks is like he's keeping a secret between the two of them. One kept away from the empty, outside world. 

Isobu trusts him, which is why he’s worried. 

Yagura swears he won’t let anybody extract Isobu from his body. Not in fear for his own life but for Isobu. It’d taken both of them a long time to get to that point and Isobu had realised in return for Yagura defending him- not for his life, but with his life- that Isobu would choose him over freedom. 

Choosing each other over the two most important parts of their existence and it’ll only work if they work together. 

And it works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh i like these guys being friends. i love my screechy small boy and his turtle guardian


	7. Of all the people in the fucking world...

It’s getting late when Yagura finally reaches the archipelago of the Land of Water. He’s relieved when he spots the grey shroud of land in the distance as the sun starts setting. He can do long journeys- he’s used to it since Kirigakure is debatably more out of the way than the other nations- but he’d rather not spend two solid days travelling with no proper rest. He hadn’t slept for a while now, something he was becoming acutely aware of, and he’s not so overconfident in his abilities to think he could fight at peak performance whilst sleep deprived. 

He feels himself sinking when he takes the first step on land. Walking across long stretches of water wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to do. Easy when you know how, but it still used chakra, even if it didn’t look like it. Yagura pauses, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly as he gets his bearings.

_ “We should get some rest. You’re pushing it a little too far…” _

Though he really dislikes being nagged, he knows Isobu’s warning isn’t unreasonable and with good intentions. He agrees silently as they climb the shore and onto flat land. The island is thick with trees and plants and a familiar, homely mist is settling comfortably over the landscape like a soft blanket. Yagura knows the mist will get colder as the night goes on and it would be less of a problem if he was moving to keep himself warm but he’s beginning to feel a chill prickling his forearms- one that might precede freezing to death in the middle of the night. Shinobi may be powerful, formidable foes but they were still human and weren’t exempt from succumbing to the cold. 

“There’s a place somewhere up ahead. If we reached the island from the direction I’m thinking of.” He hopes he isn’t wrong. If he is, then he might not know exactly where he his and that’s nothing short of a colossal pain in the ass for both of them. It’s dark now and Yagura knows enough shinobi that threaten the dark than he could care to count.

He decides to make the journey quick- he hops up into the nearest tree and begins to speed up his pace. If he made it high enough, he might be able to see light from one of the smaller villages that dotted the island. For now, he’d keep heading in this direction until he hit something. He’s not often entirely wrong about these things but it’s still possible so he tries to stay vigilant.

About five minutes later, he spots a thin stream of smoke billowing out from some trees. It’s not immediately noticeable and normally not something worth investigating but this isn’t really a normal situation to find yourself in so the circumstances were much different. The smoke is a light colour against the deep dark sky and Yagura watches it slither around the moon like distant clouds.

He’s not expecting anything major but if it’s somewhere potentially warm to stay then it’s good enough for him. He thinks he’ll circle it for a moment, check it out, remain unseen and leave if it’s nothing. Simple plan. What could go wrong?

He tends not to ask that question as, in the world of shinobi, it had a nasty habit of coming right back around and biting him in virtually every part of his body. 

Upon closer inspection- Yagura blends in with one of the furthest trees to take a look- it’s an empty firepit. Well, the firepit itself wasn’t empty. In fact, it was roaring at full force with large flames that licked at the air, emitting clouds of smoke that dissipated into the night sky. No, it was the surroundings that were empty.

That was...unusual. Unless the occupiers of this fire had temporarily disappeared for some reason, a raging fire with nobody sat around it was a very odd thing to come across. Even if it is a fire, it looks in no way tempting to Yagura. He knows better than to just waltz out into open light with no idea who was around. Not to mention he was now in Kirigakure territory and if Isobu was right about the coup from a few days ago, he was still at risk.

Of course, he was still at risk in countless other ways but he’d neglected to touch on them as it depressed him slightly in the current moment. 

His face can barely be seen from behind the leaves but the light from the fire brushes over his forehead and makes his eyes shine in a fascinating pink hue. They’re swimming with thought- his brows crease. This was probably nothing to concern himself with. He should leave.

Leaving was a very good idea. It was a shame he couldn’t do that now that something cold, hard and something he could only assume was  _ very  _ sharp was pressed against the soft flesh of his neck. He sighs. It’s all he can do.

The thought of the firepit being a trap had definitely occurred to him. He just hadn’t expected to have been accosted that quickly. He was getting far too tired now.

“Do you mind?”

There’s a low, grumbling laugh that seems ominously closer than it actually is and it irritates his ears the way the smoke irritates his eyes. He swallows, but not nervously. He’s remarkably cool for somebody in what could potentially be a fatal situation.

“Not really.”

His eyes lid and his jaw tenses with contained aggravation and Isobu neglects to say anything because he knows where this is going. There’s not much he can do right this second other than get in the way.

“Oh.” Yagura spits, “It’s  _ you. _ ”

He doesn’t need to see his face to know Zabuza is smiling from under the bandages he conceals his face with. He doesn’t need to see it and somehow it serves to piss him off even more. He’s had enough, he really has.

“Nice to see you again. Looks like my luck’s come back.” He taunts, edging the kunai he’s holding just a little closer to the vulnerable spots of Yagura’s neck. Yagura’s mouth twists into a firm, hard line.

“Sorry, I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I don’t think I’ve seen you for a couple of years. You look like you’ve grown up.” There’s no point saying that, however, since he knows Zabuza wouldn’t understand. Yagura’s eyes are becoming a little blinded by the light of the fire and he’s not sure where else to look. God, this situation was becoming an annoyance. 

“Are you done? I’ve got things to do.” Yagura prods, being about as mouthy as ever. Zabuza is very easily irritated, he knows from experience, so anything he does or says is about good enough to rile up the other shinobi. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing still remains to be seen. It was nice to see that after all this time, Zabuza was pretty much the same as always.

“That’s funny, so do I. In fact, it’s at the very top of my agenda. I reckon you might know what it is.”

“Yeah, well I know that you’ve got the wrong person, for a start, so kindly piss off.” Yagura grunts, before tilting his head dangerously to the side, so much so that his neck is now feeling the blade of the kunai, just to eye Zabuza. “And if you’re gonna kill me, I’d rather you didn’t use the butter knife you’ve got against my neck right now. Using a kunai is an embarrassment to both of us.”

Zabuza’s eyes narrow. “If you’ve got a preference for what I use, take your pick. It’s no skin off my nose.” His hand moves to grab the sturdy handle of what something that Yagura can’t quite identify from his angle but he’s  _ sure  _ he’s seen it before. 

“Haven’t you got other nations to disgrace? Go do that somewhere else.” Yagura snips at him. He suddenly feels the kunai being pressed further to his neck as Zabuza wields the Kubikiribōchō in his other hand and he can’t waste chakra making some cumbersome move to get out of this hold. 

On the other hand, he’s going to be dead in about five seconds if he doesn’t do something- being the Mizukage doesn’t suddenly make you impervious to a slice to the throat. He doesn’t say anything but Isobu can feel his own chakra beginning to wrap around Yagura like a defensive shield. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, but it’s enough to give Yagura a foothold of chakra to counter Zabuza and gain some distance. He doesn’t land a hit but Zabuza manages to swiftly dodge backwards to avoid a tasty dose of Biju chakra.

“You’re resorting to that already?”

_ “Yagura! Don’t try anything too stupid--” _

Now that he has room to breathe, he has room to be angry and he swings his club out from his back in one fluid motion- his body belies his strength.

“No-- I said I was gonna do it when I saw him, so I’m gonna!” Yagura yells out, in response to Isobu. Zabuza can’t really gauge his conversation with the Biju but he can only really deduce that he’s the person in question here. He ditches the kunai and stances defensively with the Kubikiribōchō.

_ “No-- Yagura, I think we could--” _

Isobu’s suggestion goes unheard as the two shinobi clash. Yagura knows Zabuza well enough to know that dispatching the Fourth Mizukage with a surprise kunai attack was well below both of their standards. Though it might not seem like it. Yagura’s club can fend off the Kubikiribōchō remarkably well and the previously peaceful night is now disturbed by the sound of clashing metal.

“So I’m guessing your little firepit was a trap?” Yagura swings his club around like it’s some kind of toy- after his temper subsided, he seemed massively unperturbed by the fight at hand and if Zabuza didn’t know any better, he’d think he was just playing with him.

“Not entirely-- I was expecting some of your guys to come after us but I didn’t think  _ you’d  _ show up.” He sneers. Yagura squints at him.

“It wasn’t my plan to, in all honesty. As much of a fucking traitor I think you are, you’re somehow the least of my priorities at the moment.” He says, managing to swing his club at the right angle to perfectly deflect the Kubikiribōchō. He can feel Zabuza’s attacks growing in ferocity with every swing of the sword.

“So, tell me,” Yagura’s voice can just about be heard over the clashing noise of metal on metal, “How did you come into possession of the Kubikiribōchō? Last I remember, it didn’t belong to you.”

Zabuza’s frown is absolutely unrivalled. He says nothing.

_ “Yagura!”  _ Isobu’s nagging finally gets through to him,  _ “Hold on a second. If you make this too big of a fight, people will know that we’re here.” _

“We’ll be fine. I’ll just be done with him and we’ll scarper, okay?” Though his words are nonchalant, he narrowly misses a blade in the side of the head as he almost gets his legs swept out from underneath him. He manages to hook himself upright using the club.

“I don’t know what that thing is telling you but it won’t be that easy.” Zabuza warns, brandishing the sword and the Kubikiribōchō has the same glint that Zabuza has in his eyes. It’s dangerous and borderline deranged. Both seem to be telling him that he's soon to meet his end unless he starts putting some serious effort in.

_ “Yes, but he might be helpful!” _

“How’s this prick gonna be helpful?! He tried to kill me a few nights ago!” Yagura frowns because, though he’s planning this to end quickly, he knows that Zabuza can’t be alone and if backup is on the way then he’s royally fucked. He can’t afford to get shafted now of all times.

_ “We’re looking for someone who we know isn’t on the side of the Masked Man. Well, we’ve found somebody!” _

Yagura jumps back several paces and distances himself enough to focus on what Isobu is saying. He stares Zabuza down from the other side of the fire, watching the way the other shinobi’s face distorts in the heat haze from the flames.

“Him? Isobu, we’re trying to find people who  _ don’t  _ want me dead. This guy isn’t exactly a strong candidate.” Yagura eyes the Kubikiribōchō and the sheen of the blade in the harsh light. It’s not looking great, he’ll admit.

_ “The Masked Man wants you alive-- he’s been using you for the past few years.” _

“Look, you’re going to have to get to the point quicker, I’m on a bit of a time limit here.” Yagura keeps his distance no matter which way Zabuza moves. Zabuza, himself, has resigned to standing in one spot which is uncharacteristically patient of him. His eyes narrow with a smile that can’t be seen. 

“No limit.” He says teasingly, “Take your time. You’ve got all night to die.”

_ “Zabuza was trying to assassinate you, but when you think about it, he was trying to assassinate the you that was under the genjutsu. It must mean that he’s clashing with the ideals of the man behind the mask.” _

“Eh?”

_ “My point is, if the man wants you alive and Zabuza wants you dead, then they can’t be working together, can they? You obviously managed to fight him off whilst you were incapacitated, so…what does that mean?” _

Yagura drops his defensive stance and the end of his club hits the ground with the force of gravity. “So...you’re saying that in these circumstances, one of the closest things we can get to somebody trustworthy is  _ this  _ asshole? You can’t be serious.”

Though Yagura’s too busy focused on the idea, Zabuza’s supposed eyebrows raise up his forehead in interest. Aside from the fact he was openly being insulted. Killing Yagura is at the top of his to-do list but he can’t deny his curiosity is piqued and where his curiosity is piqued, there were benefits to be found.

_ “You know I’m right. The sooner we can stop fighting, the better it is for us.” _

“Yeah-- see, the big problem here falls with the man who is actively trying to kill me. Mainly for the fact that, well, he’s  _ trying to kill me. _ Not to sound pessimistic but I reckon we’d have a better chance convincing the man in the mask not to cast another genjutsu on us.” He scratches his cheek in a comfortably casual manner, “Yeah, I can see that going well.”

“Are you done? I’m getting a little bit bored over here.” Zabuza says thickly, swinging the heft of the sword so it rests comfortably over his shoulders. Yagura sags on the spot, now trapped between a rock and a very large sword. He pulls a face, wincing to himself because he's not sure how to go about striking up sudden diplomacy.

“So...uh...how open are you to negotiation?”

“You must be fucking joking.”

To his surprise, however, Yagura actually slumps to the ground and stops there. He doesn’t put his club away, but he somehow manages to possess the audacity to take a seat whilst in the midst of a battle- though he wouldn't consider it relaxing, since his legs were beginning to seize up and he's trying his best to look confident with his shaking legs. Zabuza would find this bizarre act incredibly insulting if he wasn’t genuinely wondering what the hell was going on. Yagura’s had struck him as bizarre ever since he put the kunai to his neck but he hadn’t bothered to press on it until now.

Yagura wouldn’t normally sit in a fight, either. He’s a little too proud for it but he's legitimately too exhausted to keep going and he’s hoping his confidence in being able to slow down in a fight will instill some belief in his opponent. It’s worked in the past, though he doesn’t know how. Isobu thinks it might be the show of overconfidence that does it. 

“Hold on, we’ll carry on in a second. I just need to know some things.” He says, raising a hand to effectively pause the fight for a moment. He's hoping the promise of continuing the fight is enough to keep Zabuza happy. 

“You really piss me off, you know that, don’t you?” Zabuza glares at him darkly, “What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

“Depends if you’re asking me seriously ‘cuz I have a list three miles long.” Yagura snarks under his breath, though now might not be the most savoury time for banter. “I need to know what’s going on in Kirigakure. You know that much, don’t you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why’re you trying to kill me, as well? That’d be nice to know. That way, if your excuse is reasonable, then I’ll spare you the pain of shoving my club up your ass.”

Zabuza spears the ground with the Kubikiribōchō so it stands on its own with no support. “You must think I’m some kind of fool. Why would I tell you anything? Moreover-- why are you trying to waste my time with such a transparently stupid question? Are you trying to make me believe that you haven't been paying attention to the nation that  _ you’ve  _ been in control of for the past few years? Don’t act stupid.”

“Um. Something like that. Look, it goes without saying that I think you’re a traitorous bastard…”

“Likewise.”

“...but there’s something bigger going on that I’m trying not to get caught up in again. It’d be a real pain in the ass and you’re apparently as good as I’m gonna get since I know you’re not in league with the guy who’s been ‘shadow-running’ Kirigakure.” He makes the actually air quotations with his hands for extra effect because he’s too tired to maintain the real composure of a Mizukage who’s faced with an assassin. In fact, He’s secretly quite bad at that to begin with but it’s part of the reason why Isobu thinks he’ll be successful at the job. Too many people obsessed with hiding themselves that it becomes refreshing when somebody who is outright comes along. 

“I’m sorry, what the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one in charge of Kirigakure. It's your job to be explaining everything to us.”

“No,” Yagura says, “No, I’m not. Not really. I got put under a genjutsu by someone I don’t know and they’ve more or less been the actual mind behind the last several years of reigning over Kirigakure.” He figured he might as well come out with it because there's no way Zabuza will believe him without a fight. 

Zabuza actually laughs. “Alright. So tell me, why should I believe you?”

“Depends. Why do you think I’ve been dancing around Kirigakure for the past few days trying to find out what the hell’s going on instead of actually  _ being  _ there? What’re you wasting your time with?”

“Trying to keep myself alive.”

“Well then, that makes two of us. I haven’t been back to the village because if I go back, that man in the mask will most likely find me there and if he's not working alone then he's bound to have cohorts in this region.”

“What man in a mask? We’ve got a few of those in the village, if you weren’t already aware.” Zabuza jabs, leaning on the handle of the Kubikiribōchō. Yagura is genuinely surprised that Zabuza is listening to him (humouring him) and not trying to splatter his internal organs over the stretch of the island- maybe what he had to say really was intriguing to him. He also considers that Zabuza might still be exhausted from the attack a few days ago. It’s unlikely he got away without a scratch. The fact he’s still alive now is remarkably impressive.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s not from our village. I don’t know where he’s from. The bottom line is that he cast a genjutsu strong enough to put me and the Three Tails under for virtually the entire time I’ve been Mizukage. My actions of the past aren’t my own. They’re his.” He says this seriously and his eyes seem to hold the same meaning his words do as he silently implores Zabuza to believe him. Unfortunately, Zabuza is never easy to convince.

“Interesting story. Anyway, like I said, I have things to do-- things concerning you.” He pulls the Kubikiribōchō out of the ground and extends it to point it directly at Yagura. The flames from the fire tickle the underside of the sword, most likely making it a nice scorching temperature that Yagura really doesn’t want to work with.

“Good for you.” Yagura deadpans, “Now, if you’re done acting like a jackass, I need your help.” He watches the sword hover over the fire and he can appreciate the amount of strength that has to be used to hold it like that. Swords aren’t exactly light these days.

“Me? You want my help? Bullshit.”

“Right, well, if that’s bullshit then tell me why I’m still here. You know I’d never ask you for help in a million years. If you’re not gonna believe me then fine, I didn’t expect you to, but if you want to start attacking the  _ right  _ person, then I’d put the fucking sword down.”

Zabuza doesn’t move.

“Killing me won’t help whatever it is you think it will. If you want your hits to mean something, I’d suggest you listen to me.” He says seriously. He folds his arms and puts the club down. He knows it’s never a good idea to put your guard down but sometimes it was necessary. Sometimes it made a better point than swinging a weapon around.

“You don’t know what I want.” Zabuza says plainly. There’s no aggression to his voice but there’s nothing laughable about it. He’s stating the truth.

“I guess not, but if you targeted me because of my status as Mizukage, then you might as well be going after him. If it’s something else then I’d quite like to know.” Yagura tells him, “But anything that happens in Kirigakure at the moment? It’ll all come back to the man in the mask- so I think it’s in your best long-term interest to listen.”

He says nothing.

“You know I’m right-- and I know that you know I’m right.”

“So how’d you come to that conclusion?”

“What?”

Zabuza puts the sword back in the ground and crosses his arms, but he doesn’t let his guard down, Yagura can tell and, though they’re technically enemies at the moment, he almost feels a sense of pride seeing competent behaviour in one of his own. Pride in the village- and many Kirigakure shinobi are remarkably proud themselves.

“You mentioned something about me being trustworthy. How’d you come to that conclusion? Doesn’t seem wise since I tried to kill you.”

Yagura shrugs to fill the space of time he’s using to concoct an answer. The dirt is becoming colder beneath him and it’s getting uncomfortable. “For the time being, the guy wants me alive. He could’ve easily let you kill me and he’d get away with nobody ever knowing what he was up to but, ‘cuz your attempt was foiled, then it’s safe to say he doesn’t want me dead at the moment. That means both of your ideas of what should happen to me oppose each other.” He flicks two fingers in Zabuza’s direction as a complimentary gesture to his words.

“I don’t usually side with the guy who wants me dead but apparently it seems safer than siding with the guy who wants me alive. How ironic.” 

“So you’re saying this guy wants you alive for-- for what, to control you?”

Yagura sits back, propping himself up on his arms. “Controlling a Mizukage isn’t a bad shout for someone with ambitions. If you’ve got the leader in the palm of your hand, you’ve got the whole village.” He says, staring at the fire, but his eyes then flit upwards to meet Zabuza’s and he smiles slyly.

“Well...not quite the whole village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in all honesty this story is going in a place im not sure it should (like way past this chapter) n ive been proper mullin it over tryna figure out whether i should make it go in that direction. man its difficult idk what im doing lmao
> 
> i make kiri memes on my tumblr @unavoidablekoishi come chat to me abt yagura my dudes


	8. Not Quite Going to Plan...(not that we had one to begin with)

Yagura will admit, this is definitely a first for him.

He’d explained himself in great detail to Zabuza, after being able to convince the latter not to smash his head open right there, right then. Naturally, Zabuza had been reluctant to listen but he’d eventually realised that Yagura really was confessing the truth (though he's most likely still sceptical) - this led to both of them sitting opposite one another at the fire, attempting to judge one another closely.

“I see.” Was all Zabuza had to say for the moment. Yagura can just about make out the outlines of his lips from under the bandages across his face but it really does seem like Zabuza had nothing else to say. He seemed interested enough to listen but that was about it.

Yagura sits back, feeling a little overheated from sitting so close to the fire, though his back was freezing. “In all honesty, if the Three Tails hadn’t told me about the coup, I’d have no idea.” He refers to Isobu as the formal Three Tails to everybody else. There’s no point using a name that nobody knows. “Then you really might’ve gotten away with it.”

Zabuza watches him carefully for a moment. He can’t see anything too out of the ordinary, other than the slight difference in attitude. He’d known Yagura before he’d stepped up as Mizukage, but not personally. Not really. Becoming one of the Seven Swordsmen was a role that was kept close to the Mizukage’s side but, of the little he’d known of Yagura beforehand, he’d merely assumed the newfound power was what changed him. What made him colder.

“So that thing inside you knew? You said it broke you out of the genjutsu.” His voice is rough and so low Yagura finds it hard to pick up when it’s so quiet. The fire crackles softly and Yagura lifts his head to watch the smoke ebb away into the empty sky.

“Mm. Depending on their relationship, Biju are able to disrupt a Jinchuuriki’s chakra flow and break the effect of genjutsu. It’s the same concept as one shinobi doing it to another.”

“But you said that it was also under a genjutsu. How’d it escape? Not like you could’ve done it.” Zabuza brings one knee up to rest his arm on it. The Kubikiribōchō sits harmlessly beside him, basking in the light of the fire. Yagura is still very aware that he could be in danger but he can deal with that when it becomes a more prominent problem. He chews his lip and stares into thin air for a moment.

“Isobu…?”

Zabuza’s forehead creases. “Isobu?”

_ “I’m not too sure, myself. You know, it was right after the coup. I wonder if that had anything to do with it. Shock? A sudden attack-- perhaps the man broke control of the genjutsu whilst that was happening.” _

Yagura listens carefully, but to Zabuza it just looks like he’s zoned out so far that he can’t be bothered to zone back in (though that might not be totally uncharacteristic for him). Yagura brings a hand up to rest his chin on it and his eyes flit around, looking at nothing.

“Isobu thinks it could have something to do with the coup but he doesn’t really know.” Yagura relays the information concisely, like it’s the most normal thing in the world, but Zabuza still looks bewildered. He looks like he’s watching something incredibly strange yet too thrilling to take his eyes away.

“That thing has a name?”

“You have a name.” Yagura retorts, as if it’s a totally compelling argument. “And people name their pets, which isn’t too irrelevant in your case.” He hasn’t even finished speaking before he’s able to see a vein pop from Zabuza’s forehead as he glares intensely in his direction. Yagura is entirely unfazed. “Yes, he has a name. It’s what I call him.”

Zabuza grunts.

“To answer your question-” Yagura repeats himself with just a little more emphasis, “He doesn’t quite know, but thinks the coup might have something to do with it.” He sits back upright, stretching out a twinge in his neck. “Funny, that. You might’ve actually been helpful this time around.”

“It wasn’t what I was going for.”

“You never answered my question from earlier, by the way.”

“Eh?”

The Kubikiribōchō, previously a very temporary topic of conversation, sits idly on the floor. Yagura pointedly eyes it, measuring the distance of the handle to Zabuza’s dominant, sword-wielding hand. “How did you come into possession of the Kubikiribōchō?”

Zabuza pauses for far longer than Yagura thinks appropriate. So much so he’s unsure if Zabuza is trying to concoct a believable lie in his head. To his surprise, however, Zabuza just tilts his head. “You really don’t know anything, do you? Hard to believe that you of all people would ask…”

Yagura sighs. “What did I do now?”

Zabuza actually emits the smallest snicker. “That’s the spirit. Actually, it wasn’t that long ago, now that I think about it. You  _ do  _ remember who had it before me, don’t you?”

Yagura groans lowly, forcing one hand away from the tiny amount of warmth he’d managed to create in the dirt to relieve the pressure of a headache that weighed at the front of his forehead. 

“I can remember  _ that  _ far back. It’s only been, like...whatever. It was Juzo Biwa, wasn’t it? Couldn’t forget a guy like him if I tried.” The mauled, painted face of Juzo is still very fresh in his mind, as well as every other shinobi of his caliber. Remarkably brutal- he’s not surprised his blade ended up in the hands of Zabuza. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in this instance- they weren’t related but when you looked at them, they might as well have been.

“He defected. Left Kirigakure. You went after him.”

Yagura momentarily allows his eyelids to close, doing his best not to succumb to exhaustion. “I think I know where you might be going with this.” 

“You took him down and the Kubikiribōchō was brought back to Kirigakure- but not without a serious fight. You should've seen yourself. You looked burnt to a crisp.” Zabuza lazily points in his direction and though he can see clearly in his mind how much of a state Yagura had looked when he'd stumbled back into Kirigakure, Yagura himself can't formulate such an image in his mind. 

"By Juzo…?" 

"Nah he had someone else with him. Itachi of the Sharingan." 

This perks Yagura up a little bit. "Of Konohagakure? What was he doing here-- and with Juzo of all people?" 

"What're you asking me for? You're the one who's supposed to know." Zabuza replies unhelpfully. 

Zabuza’s retort goes mostly unheard by Yagura, who’s rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and trying his best to look alert, only to be failing miserably. He hadn’t slept for two days- maybe even three- and it was beginning to take its toll. Staring at the fire was only making it worse. The mesmerising patterns made by the movement of the fire just served to make him even more drowsy.

“What’s wrong with you? Past your bedtime?” Zabuza taunts, not taking his eyes from him even for a second. Yagura frowns to himself as he rubs his face roughly to wake himself up a bit. Falling asleep now, no matter how tempting it may be, was really not the wisest idea. No matter how trustworthy Yagura had made Zabuza out to be, pertaining to their circumstances, that didn’t help the fact that Zabuza would still delight in murdering him when he got the chance. That would have to change soon.

“If my bedtime was three days ago then, yeah, kind of.” He says gruffly. Now that he’s taken a while to sit down, get warm and just stop moving for a while, the effects of the last three days is definitely setting it. His shoulders ached from where the strap holding his club had dug uncomfortably into the skin and his lower back just wasn’t having any of it. Sitting down was nice but what he really needed was to lie down. He rubs his eyes again.

“You’re like a kid.”

“Fuck off. I’m older than you are.”

Zabuza notes that that is an incredibly childish thing to respond with, which just cements his argument even further. “You’ve never looked like it.” He shoots back which, in fairness, is equally as silly but it’s the middle of the night, approaching the early hours of the morning, and if he’s not going to kill this guy physically, he might as well just bully him for a bit. It helps that he knows just what to say to get under his skin. 

“Just ‘cuz I’m not freakishly tall.” Yagura spits. “At least I can dress myself properly.” He stares at Zabuza with raised eyebrows. “Everyone else can wear their headbands normally- why can’t you?” Nothing will stop him from being snippy when he wants to be. He knows when to take his role of Mizukage seriously and act respectfully but he also knows exactly when he can get away with saying whatever he likes and he likes to exploit those moments greatly.

“At least I know  _ where _ to wear it.” Zabuza tilts his head to the side to get a glimpse of the metal plate from Yagura’s headband where it’s stitched into his shirt. “What you wearin’ it down there for?” 

Yagura follows his gaze down to look at himself and he has to admit, sometimes he’d forgotten he’d put it there. He frowns at Zabuza’s remark, nonetheless. Zabuza jerks his head back in quiet but daunting laughter. 

“Oh, no, I get it. It’s a little kid thing, right? Covering your bellybutton so a god doesn’t come and steal it during thunderstorms. I should’ve guessed.” He extends a finger and places it on his chin like he’s figured out something incredible. Yagura’s forehead creases deeply and his cheeks tint red ever so slightly, puffing out angrily because there’s little he can say to push the conversation in his favour. Zabuza may have gotten lucky with a coincidence to exploit but he doesn’t concede in the slightest, instead opting to push further.

“Yeah, ‘cuz that’s a face a Mizukage should be pulling.” He extends his hands to create a picture frame around Yagura’s face with his fingers from across the fire. “It definitely screams ‘childish sore-loser.’” He chuckles lowly and it sounds like scraping gravel. “Alright, I’ll admit it. There’s no way you can be the Mizukage from the past few years. That guy was stone cold- especially to me. You might be a good liar but this is a little too good.”

Yagura doesn’t know whether he should be cross, angry or livid.

He says nothing, but glares and vows to verbally assault Zabuza another time, when he was less sleep-deprived. He folds his arms and relaxes on the spot, letting his head hang slightly. The fire isn’t close to going out just yet but it’s diminished since earlier. He wonders if there’s anything around to use for fuel that isn’t damp.

“So what do you want?”

“Hn…?”

Zabuza sits back on his hands. “You said you wanted my help. Well, fine. You have it. So what do you want?” He speaks harshly, bluntly, and Yagura isn’t all too sure quite what to say. He can’t really tell if he’s being sincere or not. He looks down and ponders it for a moment.

“Why so keen all of a sudden? You didn’t seem thrilled about helping me earlier.” Yagura asks, suspiciously. He squints at Zabuza from across the fire. His eyes are becoming bleary with sleep so Zabuza’s image is looking a little hazy at the moment.

Zabuza shrugs. “I thought about it. I’m in a good position. I can kill you at virtually any moment I like, so if this starts going south then I’ll finish you off for real this time and disappear.” This fact his life hangs in the balance at the moment is still painfully aware to Yagura but he thinks he’ll just have to deal with it. It wasn’t like it was an uncommon situation to be in.

“Then there’s your position as Mizukage,” Zabuza continues, “I have the entirety of Kirigakure up my ass at the moment so I’m not exactly in the safest spot, am I? Of course, if I’m discovered with you, the man I attempted to kill, then I doubt they’re gonna start disputing your decision to keep me around.” Yagura admits, Zabuza has thought this through and considered everything. He’s found enough advantages to this situation to keep him in the picture.

“As for the whole assassination thing, if you happen to be right about this mystery man-- whoever he is, then I can direct my attention elsewhere and get something a little better out of it.” As he says this, his eyes gleam dangerously, “Though don’t think you’re getting out of it- you’re still my target since you’re the Mizukage. Don’t think I’ll come and save you when you can’t tie your shoelaces but if you meet my demands at the end of the day, then there shouldn’t be any problems...should there?”

“I can deal with that.” Yagura decides. “That’s good enough for me. Thing is, I’m not really planning to walk right back into Kirigakure for the moment. I don’t know enough about what’s going on.” 

“And it’s not like I can go back without you. They’d have me in an instant. Not that I couldn’t defend myself,” He scratches his chin, “But I don’t think four against the better part of ten thousand is all too fair, if I do say so myself.”

…

“Sorry, did you say ‘four’?”

Zabuza looks remarkably placid. “Yeah. You didn’t think I was by myself, did you? I know I’m not exactly an easy target, but I’d prefer having  _ some  _ backup around.” As he says this, Yagura resists the urge to look around. He can’t sense the presence of anybody else but he does wonder- if Zabuza is alone right now, then where are the others?

“Are they from Kirigakure?”

“I’ve got the Demon Brothers-- and another from a small village in the Land of Water. All competent enough-- and I suppose I have you now as well."

"I wouldn't call myself your ally so much as your hostage." 

"I'll be honest, I was expecting backup sooner or later but I didn't expect my plot to assassinate the Mizukage would end up being aided by the Mizukage himself. Ironic, isn't it?" Yagura knows that face well enough to recognise the faint outlines of a remarkably sickening grin. He frowns. 

"It's unfortunate, I'll give you that."

"Not for me it isn't. I'm surprised it's managed to work out this nicely." Zabuza's becoming to feel quite comfortable with the situation as it is. He knows Yagura won't get the drop on him and if he'd planned to dispose of him, he would've done it earlier. That means what's happening now will likely continue until both of them find answers. 

"Well, don't get used to it. I'm only here because I'd rather die than become somebody's puppet. I'm not a tool…" Yagura folds his arms petulantly, but it doesn't come off that way when he's so close to dozing off where he's sat. He's exerted too much chakra and with too little recovery time. This meant that the time used to recover would undoubtedly be longer than it should. 

Zabuza maintains his grin, "That can be arranged if you want." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rlly miss writing my guy so i did a lil more fic work today (n now i have a huge backlog of fic left to post yeehaw)
> 
> did u guys know i have a kiri discord? its rlly small but what if it was...not small?? https://discord.gg/Sfh89r3 so join us B)


	9. The Three (and a half) Stooges

Yagura doesn’t remember falling asleep but he  _ does  _ remember waking up, and he wakes up with such a start that he loses his own breath. He bolts upright, planting his hands in the dirt he’d been lying on, and looks around frantically. He was alive, which was a good start. That meant, for the period of time he was asleep, Zabuza hadn’t snatched the opportunity to dispatch him. Well, he could’ve asked for a worse outcome.

It takes him a moment to remember that he was outside, along with all the events preceding this one. The firepit beside him has long since burnt out, leaving behind nothing but a pile of thick, black ash. His club sits beside him, probably where he’d left it the night before. All in all, he and everything about his person seemed...undisturbed. 

Zabuza, on the other hand, couldn’t be seen in the nearby vicinity, but Yagura wasn’t worried. Not really. He figures he doesn’t need to keep him on a short leash since they’re metaphorically heading in the same direction. Instead of looking for him, he sits hunched over by the burnt out firepit and allows himself to wake up at a leisurely pace. He feels a lot better, the exhaustion mostly drained from his body, but if he’s slept this good then he suspects it’s a lot later in the day than he’d prefer. It’s hard to gauge the time of day by the position of the sun when the mist hung thick in the air like this. Hard to do it accurately, anyway.

He sits there for what might be about ten minutes before he’s able to make out the faint sounds of chatter and rustling hidden amongst the noise of nature. He doesn’t jump up. Not yet, anyway, but he does listen closely to determine what direction it’s coming from and how far away it is. 

Yagura anticipates Zabuza stepping out from the overgrowth of bushes around the clearing, and he sits there silently, eyeing the people that follow him closely. He waits patiently for Zabuza to notice he’s awake and alive as Zabuza converses with the rest of the group in hushed tones. Well, he wasn’t lying about what he said last night. Those two were unmistakably the Demon Brothers, but he wasn’t too sure about the little one beside them. He donned the clothes of the Kirigakure tracking squad, but Yagura is sure he’d never seen him in his life.

He’s not sure he likes being the centre of attention here. Not with four very capable (though not capable enough to pull off a successful coup) shinobi stood around him in a circle. The way they looked down at him through slanted eyes, as if he were something nasty on the floor, could easily be intimidating if, well… if it was intimidating. Yagura remains sitting on the floor with the confidence that nothing bad will happen to him, even if Gozu and Meizu are leering at him like that. The other boy, however, remains plain-faced and indifferent, though Yagura gets the sneaking suspicion that what's underneath is far more volatile.

“You...really weren’t kidding about this.” Gozu comments plainly. Zabuza glares at him, folding his arms, and Yagura’s thinking about getting up now because he knows what follows these situations. 

“Of course I wasn’t kidding.” Zabuza snaps at him, “Have a bit more faith in me, why don’t you?” He lifts the Kubikiribōchō and pierces the ground with it, giving him something to lean on. “That’s the real deal.”

“So if that’s the real deal…” Meizu scratches the side of his face underneath the mask he’s wearing, “...then why is he still alive?”

Yagura pointedly looks at Zabuza with an indignant expression as he gets to his feet, dusting off the dirt that covers his legs. “Charming as ever, I see.”

Zabuza sighs, “He’s alive because we’ll get more use out of him that way- for the time being, anyway.” He explains, not taking his eyes away from the small Mizukage standing in front of him. Yagura’s eyes narrow as he listens, and he hasn’t forgiven Zabuza for being as irritating as he was last night so he’s more than ready to verbally lash out.

“And absolutely not because you’re meant to be  _ helping me.  _ I thought that was the deal.” He says, searching Zabuza’s bandaged face for any sign of agitation because he knows Zabuza chooses his words wisely and was refraining from making it seem he willingly agreed to help him. It was typical of him- he’d always liked to appear in control and Yagura was very much in the mood to undermine him.

Before his team can ask him for answers, Zabuza says, “Maybe, but this situation benefits us more than if we killed you.” 

“Which you still haven’t explained to me, by the way.” Yagura says primly, as he folds his arms and looks expectantly in Zabuza’s direction. Zabuza’s eyes are as steely as ever, rivalling that of his very own blade, but he’s not daunted.

“I’d feel bad telling you if you couldn’t figure it out.” His words are teasing but his voice is oddly hollow. 

“Isn’t that just typical. What did we expect?” Gozu snarks at him and Yagura knows that he could best both brothers in a fight so he’s not afraid to give him the side-eye. However, hearing what he says does make him just a touch nervous. He still knows virtually nothing on the subject of his village or himself, for that matter, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he’s going to have to work hard to fix this mess.

“Look,” Yagura feels himself becoming more irate, “I don’t think you guys seem to understand- I know absolutely  _ nothing  _ about what’s been going on for the past few years. I might as well have just been dead.” He gestures to nothing in particular in the same way he’d do when talking to Isobu. 

Speaking of Isobu, he had yet to make an appearance. 

“That was kind of the original plan…” 

“I’m gonna beat your ass into the ground if you don’t pack it in.” Yagura spits venomously, pointing his finger directly into Gozu’s face. He can just about make out Gozu’s deep frown from the little of his face that he can see, but Gozu makes no physical moves to retaliate.

“So what  _ is  _ going on here?” 

The younger boy stood off to the left looks incredibly young and fresh-faced, but Yagura would wager that he could definitely hold his own in a fight. He doesn’t need to see it to believe it- the kid is remarkably cool about the situation.

“Alright. According to him,” Zabuza gestures to Yagura with a vague flick of the head, “there’s a man in a mask running around tryin’ to put him and the beast under a genjutsu.”

“Correction, he’s  _ already  _ done that. He’s been using me over the past few years for-- well, whatever he’s been doing.” 

“Yeah, but he’s probably lookin’ for you now. Reckon he knows you’ve broken out of the genjutsu already?” 

Yagura stares at the floor. It feels like forever since he’d woken up on the edge of the lake, but in reality it was only about three or four days now. “Possibly. I’m not sure how close an eye he was keeping on me. Still, it’s not like we can go and find out, is it?”

“Alright, so this guy manages to put a genjutsu on you and--” He gestures so vaguely in reference to Isobu that Yagura almost feels a bit bad for him. It must be hard being so taboo in the outside world, though as he thinks that, he seems to have forgotten that he, too, grew up the same way, “But why? What’s he doing that for?”

“You tell me-- but I don’t exactly wanna stick around and ask, if it’s all the same with you.”

The younger boy puts a finger to his chin, thoughtfully. “If his aim was to use such a high figure of authority and be in control of Kirigakure…” 

“If you ask me, if the guy was able to best him then shouldn’t he be the Mizukage?” Meizu’s question is mildly rhetorical, but could do with an answer. He turns to Yagura like it’s his fault, “What’ve you done to piss this guy off?”

“He’s not from Kirigakure.” 

They all pause for a moment. Yagura is well aware of the possibility of a coup (very fitting for the scenario) but he’s the Mizukage for a good reason, and if there were anybody else in the village who came close to his level of power, then he’d know about it. Then there was Isobu, who’d seen that the mask wasn’t from their village. In fact, he didn’t seem to know  _ where  _ it was from.

“Is he not?”

“No.” Yagura repeats, “I know he’s not...but I don’t know where he could be from.”

“Then in that case,” The boy finishes his earlier thought with a polite smile, “Whoever we’re dealing with must have much more ambitious intentions.” He seems bright but sharp and Yagura wonders just why he’d never seen his face before. He turns to Zabuza, “Who’s this kid? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.” 

“Y’see, not everyone thinks you look like a chick.” Meizu says, as Zabuza explains to Yagura who Haku was. Haku tilts his head slightly, “I never had much of a problem with it, but I suppose it’s refreshing for a change.” He says, and it feels like this is a kind of running joke between them. It’s an oddly good-natured exchange between people who are supposed to be rogues.

Yagura eyes Haku briefly. He wasn’t actually born inside Kirigakure, which explained why he’d never seen him before. Trust Zabuza to pick up a kid with good potential out of nowhere. He’s hardly surprised to see him with a disciple of sorts, though he'd done a good job keeping him a secret. 

“So...what’re we  _ actually  _ doing? I haven’t agreed to be a part of any of this.” Gozu gestures with a flick of the hand, and Yagura feels himself squinting at him. 

"Don't start…" 

"I suppose the long-term plan is to find out who this mystery man is. If he keeps loitering around Kirigakure then we'll find him soon enough." Zabuza cuts between Gozu and Yagura before an argument can spark. "Short term…well, it's difficult." 

"We need to return to Kirigakure. At least… I do, anyway." Yagura murmurs. His arms are folded and he’s staring into space, deep in thought, accompanied by a chewing of the bottom lip. “I need to know what’s been going on. I need to get back to the village.”

“And it’s not like any of us can go back there without you. They’d be on us in an instant.” 

“But  _ why?  _ I thought we were tryin’ to kill this guy. Now you want to help him?” Gozu raises a hand to gesture at Yagura with as much offense as he can cram into one hand, and Yagura would be indignant if he wasn’t absolutely right.

“I don’t want to help him.” Zabuza corrects, “It’s just that this situation offers a lot of benefits for us. We sort out what we came here to sort out and fry a bigger fish in the process.”

“You’re forgetting,” Haku tacks on, talking directly to Gozu, “That whoever is behind this not only threatens the Mizukage, but threatens Kirigakure and possibly even the Land of Water as a whole. That means we might all be at risk, since we don’t know what he’s actually planning.”

“Better safe than sorry, maybe…” Meizu mutters, thoughtfully. He scratches what he can reach of his chin behind the mask and Gozu stares at him before sighing.

“Who knows the extent of this guy’s abilities. Either way, I’m pretty curious.” Zabuza slings his sword onto his back comfortably and puts his hands in his pockets. The Demon Brothers seem willing enough to go along with him and Haku doesn’t seem close to making a fuss about anything. Yagura eyes each and every one of them.

“Would you describe yourselves as rogue ninja?”

It might not be the most friendly question to shoot off at a would-be-if-the-plan-worked bunch of assassins, but the rather serious glint in his eye tells that he’s not making a joke of it. The four shinobi pause, and the space is filled with nothing but the soft sounds of rustling trees. 

Yagura knows when somebody is trying to gauge his thoughts by the way their eyes circle him like a hawk above prey, but he’s distinctly surprised when Haku tilts his head to the side with the slight ghost of a smile. Somehow, it’s not condescending…

“I’d say, by definition, we are.”

That’s a fair answer to give, he thinks.

“So why do you continue to wear the headband of Kirigakure?”

He can...definitely understand if he comes off as high and mighty right about now. He won’t lie, he’s sort of been known for having a smartass streak and a lack of a filter in some regard. If he wants an answer, he’ll ask the question, if he can. Haku doesn’t respond this time; instead, Zabuza does.

Yagura pointedly ignores the narrowed eyes of Gozu and Meizu glaring at him.

“Rogues we may be…” Zabuza squares up to his full height and Yagura didn’t think he had any length left to him, “...but we’re also Kirigakure shinobi and we always will be. However...loyalty is not unlimited in people like us. I’ll tell you now, it’s hard to stay loyal when you’re treated like crap.”

“I dunno, you sounded pretty loyal in your answer to me.” Yagura points out. Zabuza emits a small hum of laughter that Yagura most definitely does not like.

“Loyalty to Kirigakure...does not mean loyalty to  _ you _ .”

He should’ve figured it would come to this sooner or later. One man does not make a village, and, in a perfect world, perhaps people would be as loyal to their leader as their country, but this isn’t the case. He can understand that much. He is not Kirigakure. He is Yagura. He is simply a person who represents Kirigakure. The strongest who can defend it-- he’s not a village, he’s the protector of a village. He’s the protector of the people who make the village.

He gets the feeling that he hasn’t been doing so as of late.

“That’s good enough for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah i fucking forgot i was writing this. i have at least half a whole doc of backlog left of this fic. ill definitely post it soon i swear


	10. The Return Home

They move quickly, having established the most important parts of what was going on. Though Zabuza had managed to offer some small tidbits of information, Yagura was still largely unaware of the changes that took place over the better part of nearly ten years. Time goes quickly in the shinobi world, and last week’s news is ancient history in the blink of an eye. Sure, Zabuza was pretty knowledgeable about, well, whatever he really needed to know about, but Yagura needed a Kage-level of knowledge of the world, and it was proving surprisingly difficult to glean anything from just walking around.

“So...we have no leads whatsoever.”

The small group dart from tree to tree, well above the ground, and keeping eyes and ears sharp for anything in the vicinity that could pose a threat- and in the Land of Water, that could really be just about anything. 

“Sorry, I didn’t stop to ask his name.” Yagura snarks from the middle of the group, having allowed Zabuza to take the lead for the time being. “I’ll do better next time, shall I?”

“We should’ve just killed him…”

Haku hums to himself for just a moment. His voice can barely be heard, as soft as it is, over the din of trees rushing past. “We couldn’t kill him...but I wonder if that was because the Masked Man was defending you…?”

“Don’t start getting ideas. I’m the Mizukage for a good reason, y’know- I don’t need you thinkin’ that you can get the drop on me.”

“Man in a mask seemed to do a decent job of gettin’ you where he wanted you.” Gozu retorts smoothly, but the words are jagged, like rocks. Yagura frowns, deciding not to waste the effort of tilting his head a fraction to glare at Gozu out of the corner of his eye. “Being one of the top shinobi of Kirigakure doesn’t necessarily make me one of the best shinobi in the world. I might be strong, but you won’t see me tryin’ to throw down with the Raikage.” 

“I’ll give him that, he’s a bit of a beast.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Haku sounds a little irate, having his query utterly derailed by the people around him that he had to call ‘allies’. “What I meant was that you were still being controlled by the man when we’d attacked you. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“Then in that case, I wonder if the Masked Man knows who we are...and what we did?”

There’s a nice, eerie silence, and Yagura wonders if the threat of the man after him potentially targeting the group, and having a reason to do so, is enough to make them take it a bit more seriously. Haku had made a genuine point, though. It’s hard enough to gauge the extent of this man’s abilities, but there’s no way he wouldn’t have known about the assassination-- especially if he’d appeared that night long enough for Isobu to catch a glimpse of him. That meant it really  _ was _ possible that he could be targeting Zabuza and his group.

“He might know who we are, and he most likely knows what we did, but in all honesty, I don’t think he has a reason to care at the moment. Not unless we make ourselves a pain in his ass.” Zabuza says.

“That sounds reasonable. I doubt he’d stop to tie up every loose end if it wasn’t important to him. Still, we should be careful if that’s the case. If he’s coming after you, then we’re in the same boat. If not, then that’s an advantage we’re gonna have to exploit.”

_ “If you’re planning to go back to Kirigakure, it’s best to split up so some of you can stay behind.” _

“Isobu. I wondered when you were gonna wake up.”

_ “I was keeping you up on my chakra reserves for most of the night, you know. I deserved a little downtime.” _

“Yeah, yeah, you know it’s not a problem.” Yagura has to admit, he’s happy to hear that voice in his head speaking to him. It provides a sense of familiarity amongst a group of people he’s not so familiar with. Not personally, anyway.

“Is he talking to that beast…?” Gozu’s trying to talk like Yagura can’t hear him, but it doesn’t work when he doesn’t bother to lower his voice. Yagura isn’t listening, however, so it works out either way.

“Beast’s got a name, apparently.” Zabuza calls back, rather plainly. It was a fact of the matter, he supposes, though he admits he was surprised to have found that out. It didn’t seem like something that would matter to a physical mass of chakra. Why would it have a name? And even weirder, who named it?

“Isobu thinks if we’re going to travel into Kirigakure then some of us should split up and stay behind- that might be good if something bad happens to one of us.” Yagura relays what Isobu had said, and he thinks it’s pretty convenient to not only have a sentient being made of chakra residing in your body, but one that’s genuinely somewhat intelligent. Intelligent enough to make decent decisions. 

“There’s a thought. We’re not heading to Kirigakure just yet, though. We’ll circle around to the other island first and plan it out.”

“Harder to hide if we’re travelling by water, y’know.”

“It’s gotten to the point that if I don’t return to Kirigakure either today or tomorrow without some kind of reason, it’s gonna look suspicious. Like,  _ really,  _ suspicious.” Yagura points out. Being the leader meant you really could do whatever you wanted, even going so far to leave the village for however long you fancied, but he hadn’t a reason to do so, and the Kage rarely did leave their villages unless there was something serious going on. There was only so long he could feign going after Zabuza before it became silly.

The statement is understood by everyone, though nobody responds. Everyone, in their heads, are trying to plan out what the best course of action could possibly be right about now.

“It’s not like you can stay if you go back, though. You’d be a sitting duck that way.”

Yagura exhales harshly as he hops from a large, dark branch of wood. Nothing seems to jump out at him as a go-to idea, and that was never a good sign. That meant he’d really have to spin something complicated to get out of it without being caught again, especially with these guys being the only people he could fall back on at the moment.

_ “I thought it was a bit strange as well…” _

Yagura’s eyes are gazing downwards- he’s navigating purely from the little he can make out at the top of his eyeline but he’s too busy thinking to properly focus. It was a little bit strange. He wonders…

“Did...nobody notice at all that I was under a genjutsu for nearly ten  _ years? _ ”

He doesn’t like the silence that follows. It’s almost like a guilty silence. Depending on the genjutsu, it can be easy or difficult to detect it in other people, but...for such a long period of time, someone had to have had an inkling.

“In fairness, it’s difficult in your case. Such a high level genjutsu…” Meizu appears to be staring into space as he says this. 

“But none of you thought it was weird that I’d maintained our reputation as the Bloody Mist even though I’d actually opposed most of it?”

It’s silent once more, and this time he really doesn’t like it. His eyebrows furrow as he listens intently for any sign of a reaction, before he barks, “If you guys came after me because of that, I’m gonna hammer each and every one of you, y’know!” 

“No. That’s not why.”

Zabuza’s voice is thick. Yagura supposes that he never really told him why he’d staged a coup to begin with. It did still linger in his mind. He doesn’t respond because he doesn’t really need to.

“That’s part of the deal we made, by the way. Assuming you can properly resume your position as Mizukage...we’ll give you a chance to make some changes. If you don’t agree, then that’s the part where we finish off what we started.”

“I told you, that’s fine by me.” Yagura says, albeit lowly, “We’ll cross that hurdle when we get to it, though. Back to what I was saying before-- you really didn’t notice anything was wrong? Not even a little bit?”

“It’s not our job to notice.” Zabuza shoots back, visibly not even registering Yagura’s existence. Yagura frowns. “It’s not about making a job of it-- it’s just paying attention. You always did have a one-track mind, though, didn’t you?” He says the last bit just a tad quieter, but there’s no real risk here. Not right now.

“In fairness, there are other people aside from us who  _ would  _ notice something like that. Pick a fight with the guys who made up your council before you start with us, why don’t you?” Gozu snaps at him and normally, this wouldn’t happen. Not directly to a Mizukage but Yagura can see he’s definitely...fallen somewhere down the line in terms of respect. He’s not even entirely irritated by it, but it’s the fact it’s these guys that really gets on his nerves. Those brothers somehow wouldn’t have an ounce of respect between the both of them if you fucking gave it to them.

Yagura neglects to explain that there’s been eight or nine years for the shinobi hierarchy within Kirigakure to change, and that he might not be familiar with the people he’d been surrounded by currently. There’s no point, really.

Suddenly, he stops.

Well…

Yagura doesn’t stop. Zabuza stops, and Yagura stops right into the back of him, much to the irritation of both of them. The other three manage to stop without injuring themselves, or each other, watching intently to try and figure out what’s going on.

Zabuza turns to Yagura and, for a minute, Yagura thinks he’s gonna swing at him for knocking into him. He doesn’t do that, though. Instead, he extends a finger pointing directly into his face- however, his eyes are shining in a way Yagura hasn’t seen before.

“There is one person. There’s definitely one person who should’ve noticed the genjutsu, and long before now, if he wants to call himself a decent shinobi.”

* * *

They’d circled around to another nearby island, as per Zabuza’s suggestion, but with the intention of infiltrating Kirigakure at night. It was still a little too close to the village for their liking, especially whilst in the position of being rogue ninja, but there was little they could do about that for the time being.

Haku and the Demon Brothers would stay on the island for the time being, whilst Zabuza and Yagura headed to Kirigakure. If they didn’t return by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, then they’d been instructed to travel as far from Kirigakure as possible, lay low, and then come back with a better plan and hopefully better backup.

That was only in the worst-case scenario, however. Yagura hopes it won't come to that.

So, as the sun came down, the group registered the little rendezvous point in their minds and split apart. Haku and company would take something of a small jaunt around the island and scope out who and what was going on, whilst Yagura ‘escorted’ Zabuza to Kirigakure.

It was incredibly risky but they’d agreed they’d turn up to Kirigakure playing the roles of themselves, though vowed not to split apart. That way, if the man in the mask turned up ready to cast that same genjutsu, Zabuza would be around long enough to see him, fight him and most likely escape from him. It sounded like a plan.

_ “And you can rely on me, when the time comes,”  _ is what Isobu had said to him. Yagura was...well, he wasn’t  _ happy  _ with the plan but a plan was a plan so what else could he do? The two of them had set out the moment that daylight had begun to fade, with the intention of arriving at Kirigakure when the night had properly set in.

He’s beginning to feel a bit nostalgic about it all now. Walking back to the village, even in the dark- it was just like walking home. Walking home and going to bed. He really wishes it was as simple as that, but, for the time being, maybe he can just pretend for a little while.

It makes him wonder where his home really is now. 

Yagura pulls his arms in up under his small cloak-like garment, providing a small amount of warmth and relieving his skin of the goosebumps that had begun to prickle when the moon had come out. He eyes Zabuza next to him, who’s sort of lumbering in the same direction. He’s a little creepy looking, especially from this angle. His limbs seem longer than his body, almost coming down to his knees with the way he’s slumped over. It’s not just his arms and legs either. His fingers are like sewing needles glued together- long and spindly, but well used. His knuckles are bruised red and purple and the insides of his palms are probably the same. One way or another, he looks hardened. He also has the perpetual look of being dragged through a hedge backwards which might belie his true skill. Yagura just thinks it makes him look like a dick.

“If I end up getting killed because of this-- and  _ especially  _ if this turns out to be a trap…”

Yagura assures him it’s not.

“...then I’m gonna haunt you til the day you die, and when you  _ do  _ die, I’ll be waiting down below to kick your ass for the rest of eternity.”

It’s a solid threat, he thinks. Also very nice of him to assume he’ll have a rightful place in hell. 

“I’m sure you will, but that’s not gonna happen ‘cuz we’re not gonna get caught. We’ll duck in and duck right back out again.”

“But not before finding him…” Zabuza says this remarkably ominously, and Yagura can make out the shadow of a smirk from beneath those ghoulish bandages. “You’re sure we don’t need disguises? I’m not the only one at risk of getting utterly boned y’know.” He reminds the smaller shinobi, though it’s not like he really needs another reminder.

“When you think about it, it’s the perfect setup. If I came back empty-handed then it wouldn’t seem right. Not to mention, if you’re with me then nobody will kill you unless it’s on my express order- which won’t happen. We just have to be quick enough not to bump into the Masked Man when we’re finding--.”

“What if he’s on his side, though?”

Yagura thinks about that for just a moment, “Then we have a lead. If we don’t come back, then Haku, Gozu and Meizu will know we found something and follow through. If we do, then hopefully we’ll have some answers.”

“If we survive. That guy is no joke, even I know that much. Someone that close to the Mizukage-- and it was before you stepped up as well. What a pain. I never liked that guy.” Zabuza scratches the back of his head, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“That reminds me, by the way,” Yagura suddenly perks up, as he spots the looming, shrouded view of Kirigakure just over the horizon, “I was coming back from Konohagakure last night, before we bumped into each other. I ended up speaking to the Hokage.”

“The Hokage?” Zabuza sounds distinctly surprised, “The old geezer?”

“Mm. He’s put in a request for a Kage Summit to be held soon to discuss all this, so even if this guy manages to get all of us, and my faith in the Hokage isn’t misplaced, then they might find the answers that we couldn’t.”

The mist hangs incredibly thick in the air. Yagura can feel his hair becoming damp from the moisture- a very common problem in Kirigakure that surprisingly not many people realised. Those who didn’t gel their hair to high heaven suffered from hair that curled and sprung out at every angle in the most disheveled manner. Yagura was not exempt from this, so he never bothered to do anything worth effort with it. At most, when it got too long, he’d cut it himself.

Apparently it was incredibly obvious to everybody in the entire world that he cut his own hair. He’s still not sure what to make of that fact. 

“Don’t say it like I’m choosing to die for you. I’m not gonna hesitate to disappear if I can. I’ll leave you behind if I have to.” Zabuza corrects, knocking Yagura out of a daydream. Yagura runs his fingers through the small fringy bit of his hair, shaking all the droplets of water out. 

“I don’t think...this is a situation where you have a choice. If you die, it’s not gonna be for me, I’ll tell you that now.”

Zabuza grunts. “Better not be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> naruto brainrot is real


	11. The Warmest Welcome

He’s got mixed feelings about being in Kirigakure at the moment. On one hand it feels like he hasn’t been here for so long, and he’s honestly glad to see the familiar shapes of his home village, but on the other hand, it’s ruined by the dread that’s set in his stomach. He can’t really trust anyone or anything at the moment, so it’s making it a bit of a sore experience.

Nonetheless, the first pair of shinobi they come across, donned in their typical masks, are more than surprised when they see possibly the strangest matchup of ninja approaching them.

“L-Lord Fourth?! Is that you?”

Good start, he thinks, but these are average shinobi so he’s inclined to believe they’ll mind their own business. He makes a point of grabbing the back of Zabuza’s shirt and pushing him forward slightly, much to Zabuza’s distaste.

“Watch it…”

He knows it’s all part of the act, though.

“So you caught Zabuza. That’s a relief- we were getting worried. The squad you sent back to the village said you’d headed out on your own, but when you didn’t come back, we didn’t know what to do.” One shinobi blurts out all of this, and Yagura has a hard time wrapping his head around the verbal onslaught. He understands, though, that this did happen. He feigns confidence and shakes his head.

“Have a little more faith in me. Of course I caught him-- however I ask that you carry on and speak of this to nobody. The situation is...delicate.” He decides to say, and he’s definitely not wrong, in this case. Zabuza looks remarkably docile for somebody in what appears to be a fatal situation. He doesn’t even look threatened. In fact, he’s looking around like he’s caught sight of something mildly interesting in the surroundings, and not at all like he’s actually wanting to escape.

The two shinobi merely nod silently and back away, before heading off in the other direction.

“To the Mizukage office, I should think.” Yagura sounds a little more full of life than before, setting off with a solid pace as he drags Zabuza behind him. Zabuza does his best not to lash out at the shinobi much smaller than he, but if he’d just let go of the back of his shirt, then it wouldn’t need to happen. 

He’d forgotten about that iron grip of his.

* * *

The entire building is basked in darkness, illuminated by nothing but the moon, and surprisingly, it’s quite effective to keep the place dimly lit. Kirigakure isn’t made up of big, busy structures full of bright lights and people. The amount of light that Konohagakure generates creates something of a haze, which means it’s never really dark. Kirigakure, on the other hand, is used to the darkness, and the inhabitants of the village are much more used to navigating by the quiet light of the stars.

“Maybe I should’ve taken the sword back. It looks a bit suspect if I’m letting a prisoner walk around with his weapon.” Yagura whispers, though it’s a mild rhetoric. Zabuza’s face is unreadable in the dark.

“Nice try. Not happening.”

“I didn’t think so.” 

Yagura knows this building like the back of both hands, no matter how bright or dark it may be. It’s become muscle memory at this point, as he rounds one corner and stops outside of the Mizukage office, right on the top floor. He emits the tiniest sigh of relief.

“Lot less people creeping around than I’d thought there would be. What’s the quickest way to find him? He's normally in here somewhere.” Yagura pushes the door open a tiny fraction, relieved to see that it’s absolutely empty inside. He slinks in without a second thought, holding the door to allow Zabuza through too. Zabuza shuts the door behind both of them.

“Not like I can go running errands for you right now.”

The first thing that Yagura does is check his desk, but he’s surprised to see it’s splintered across one side. He testily runs his fingers across the damage, putting the pieces together in his mind and figuring that this was probably done on the day of his supposed assassination. It’s not like a huge dishonor in his case. This definitely wasn’t the first assassination attempt in the history of the position of Mizukage.

“Oh, they fixed the window. Guess they’re quicker about fixing the damage in this place than anywhere else in the village.” Zabuza’s tone is flat, mild surprise, but it takes a slight turn for the bitter towards the end, that Yagura wasn’t expecting. He says nothing, though.

He wants to stay. He really does.

He drops his staff by the desk and heads for the door. Zabuza lingers by the chairs and table on one side of the room, careful to remain in the shadows, on the off-chance that somebody could catch sight of him. Yagura simply opens the door and sticks his head out for a moment. Zabuza watches him, soon hearing the muffled sound of his voice that he can’t quite make out. After a moment, Yagura shuts the door.

“There are people still here. I sent one off for him.”

“Of course there would be. You’re not here, so they have to be.” Zabuza decides to finally take a seat, propping the Kubikiribōchō up against the wall and sticking his feet up on the table. Yagura goes back to the desk and begins to sift through the scrolls left in the drawers, trying to glean as much information from them as possible.

“So what do we do after this? Say we get out of this place alive. Are you just gonna wait around ‘til the summit?”

Zabuza’s question is met with silence for a very long time. He’s about to snap at Yagura for an answer, until he spies Yagura’s rather forlorn expression in the light of the moonbeam that streams through the window. He’s staring at a scroll, but taking remarkably little in, until he sees a very familiar face and a shocking mess of bright, fiery hair.

He’s almost happy to see the pleasantly beautiful face of Mei Terumi on the paper. She’d always been an exceptional shinobi with incredible talent. The scroll appeared to detail a very recent high-ranked mission she’d been a part of, and, naturally, her work had been flawless.

His eyes search her blank, motionless face, and his forehead creases in thought.

_ “Yagura…?” _

He drops his hands to his side, mouth opening to say something, but there’s not much to hear but a sigh. His eyes are searching the room for absolutely nothing.

“The summit will happen regardless of what happens to us. That’s...good. It’s just…” He trails off, placing the scroll back onto the desk and folding his arms. “I can’t...run the village right now. That’s the big problem.”

Zabuza tilts his head to the side. “The village would actually be running better if you weren’t in it.”

That’s...a blow. Yagura’s expression is gone, and, though he’s staring, it’s not at Zabuza. There’s a lengthy pause that precedes...something. He’s not acutely aware of it, but something inside him drops heavily.

“Uh...but I guess it’s not really your fault here, is it.” Zabuza tacks that on like some kind of poor damage control, but it didn’t really matter. He was right, to a degree, but even if he was in the village, Kirigakure didn’t have a leader at the moment. That made it difficult. He couldn’t go swanning off across the continent, hiding from an unseen enemy.

That’s why he’d been considering something for a while. He glimpses at the picture of Mei’s face on the scroll. This...could work.

“I need to be at the summit when it happens. I think I can do that regardless, if we have help.” Yagura leans against the desk, looking grave. Who could blame him? The situation was fifty shades of absolutely unmanageable, and he’d had about minus nine years to prepare for it.

“Who’s gonna help us? You think he’s gonna help us?” Zabuza gestures loosely to wherever the person in question may be-- hopefully making his way to the office as they spoke. Yagura shook his head, eyes glinting harsh purple in the dark.

“No, I know exactly what I’m going to do. It’s one hell of a move, but...I’m really gonna need you for this.”

Zabuza sits up.

“Don’t forget, I have conditions. Many of ‘em. I won’t follow you blindly to the ends of the earth for nothi--”

He’s cut off by a raised hand, but before Yagura can assure him that he’ll get what he wants, the door rattles with the force of a knock behind it, before opening a crack. It seems to bring a new shadow of dark flooding into the room, creeping across the floor before hitting the edge of Yagura’s foot.

_ “So this is who you meant…” _

* * *

Zabuza makes no move to get up. In fact, he seems very happy lounging on the chair, legs lazily sprawled across the table. He’s picking at his fingernails absentmindedly, almost as if he’s enjoying the situation. Yagura on the other hand, looks livid, but it’s contained purely behind the eyes, and it’s so concentrated that it makes the bright, flashing pink colour of his irises look hot and molten.

“So you’re back. You caught him then.”

“Not quite.”

Ao stands in the doorway, sussing out the situation in the office. Zabuza’s lack of a leash is concerning to him, considering the events of a few nights ago, but Yagura doesn’t seem perturbed by this, so who is he to question him? 

Well, he’ll question him all he likes. The real question was would Yagura ever listen to him?

He grips the doorframe, stepping tentatively into the room and closing the door behind him. Yagura stalks around to sit behind the desk, tapping the ruined wood indicating Ao to come closer. He’s cautious, but does so. He doesn’t like how Zabuza watches him like a hawk as he moves swiftly across the room.

It crosses his mind that this is an odd scenario to find himself in. It then becomes very apparent that this isn’t so much odd as potentially dangerous, as Zabuza hoists himself up from the chair, takes the Kubikiribōchō and lurks by the door menacingly.

“Ao.”

Ao curtly ignores Zabuza. “What is it?”

“What’ve you got behind the eyepatch?”

Ao quirks a brow. He doesn’t appreciate childish games, so he’s made slightly irate when Yagura rests the side of his face on his hand and stares up at him with something remarkably intense, hidden by bright eyes and childlike innocence plastered across his face. Ao isn’t sure what to say. There’s something he’s not grasping here and he doesn’t like it.

“It’s a bit late for a quiz. If you’ve got something to say, please say it.”

“Not very good at using that stolen eye of yours, are you?” Yagura sits back in the chair, feigning passiveness, “Or maybe you just decided not to say anything-- and here I thought better of you.” Yagura smiles brightly but in the light of the moon, it just looks sinister.

It takes Ao a moment.

“Don’t bother now. Whatever illusion was put upon me is gone. I’m sure you can see that much.” Yagura remains plain and passive, and Ao doesn’t like that one single bit. It’s not a good look on their ‘ruthless’ leader. He swallows, but says nothing for the time being.

“But, y’see, it does make me wonder.” Yagura puts a finger on his chin, clucking his tongue in a mock-thoughtful manner, “It’s been such a long time-- if you weren’t able to pick up on it then...well, I wouldn’t see you fit to call yourself a shinobi. Or perhaps...,” His brows furrow, as if he was pondering the most complex, perplexing mystery imaginable, “...maybe you just decided to keep that piece of information to yourself.”

He tilts his head to the side, locks of light platinum falling across his shoulder as he does so, “You’ve lived here for a very long time, Ao. Surely, I don’t have to keep reminding you how this village deals with traitors.”

“You keep them alive, apparently.” Ao gestures to Zabuza with the flick of his head. “But, if you’d permit me to say so, there wasn’t much I could do. Just because I possess the Byakugan--”

“--which detects genjutsu-- I know exactly what the Byakugan does, so don’t play stupid. There’s no way you could’ve gone all these years without noticing it so  _ why didn’t you do anything? _ ” Yagura suddenly plants his hands on the table, bolting upright and yelling clear across the desk. The vein in his temple is throbbing, and Zabuza is still standing by the door, watching with keen interest. Ao has to admit, he didn’t think he’d ever see him again.

“The fact of the matter is, if I’d undone the genjutsu, then what would’ve happened? I would’ve made myself a target for whoever was behind it. Then there wouldn’t have been anyone to watch you and see what their intentions were.” Ao argues firmly.

“What-- for nine years?”

“There was no rational decision available to me. We didn’t have the right manpower for launching an assault on something we have no intel on. I know you haven’t really been present over the last decade-- we may still be the Bloody Mist, but the village is fragile in its current state. It was in the best interest of the village to wait.”

Yagura says nothing, but doesn’t back down.

“We’ve suffered heavy losses across the board here-- especially since Kisame disappeared with Samehada, we’ve lost most of the seven swords.”

“Kisame left?!”

Zabuza’s head can be seen peeking out from over Ao’s left shoulder from Yagura’s view, “Sorry-- forgot to mention that one. He buggered off about two years ago now-- took down Suikazan too before he left.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Yagura palms his forehead, pushing back the hair hanging in his face, “Y’know, the village didn’t have to turn into a total fucking disaster whilst I was gone.” He snaps, but Ao remains passive as he replies coolly, “But you weren’t gone. Remember, all that’s happened thus far happened under your reign.”

“No, Ao, it wasn’t  _ my  _ reign at all-- that’s the point.” He resists the urge to groan loudly as Zabuza brandishes his sword, “So what do we do with him? Hard to tell where he’s at.”

“My allegiance has always been with the village. I don’t side with whoever’s been threatening it by placing you under a genjutsu.” Ao insists, and Yagura’s hand drops from his face as he gestures wildly at nothing in particular, “Yeah, sure, but it’s what he wants that’s my concern. That’s where it gets dangerous, and I don’t know whose side you’re on.”

“And I understand that-- but perhaps it’s vital to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your actions so far and what’s been going on. The Mizukage’s private political history is hardly common knowledge, nor is it recorded. Don’t throw away a valuable source of information-- it’s unwise.”

“Oh, can it already. He doesn’t know anything.” Zabuza grunts, fingers fiddling with the handle of his sword in a fidgety manner. Ao frowns. Yagura seems...a little calmer now. Almost too calm.

“Look, if you’re planning to investigate and go after whoever this culprit is, then I won’t get in your way. My concern lies with the village.”

“That’s fine, then,” Yagura replies, “There’s going to be some changes made tonight anyway but I do have questions for you. If you’ve been monitoring my actions, as you say you have been, then I want to know everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep forgetting i wrote this but yagura brainrot is eternal so


End file.
